Keeping it Safe
by Queen Kez the Wicked
Summary: COMPLETE! Kloppman dies, and it's everyone for himself to see who gains control of the Lodging House. How much betrayal can these poor boys take?
1. The Death of a Gentleman

**Keeping it Safe  
**_Chapter One: The Death of a Gentleman _

The day came sooner than we all expected - too soon. Kloppman, though old and wheezy, was always in fair shape and good spirits. When he had taken fever midwinter we had all assumed that he would recover as usual, no harm done. But the sickness persisted, leaving his twinkling eyes sunken into his hollow face, and his sallow skin hanging loosely off brittle bones. 

Us boys of the Lodging House could do little more than brew him a few cups of tea and continue on our usual schedule, maybe leaving a kid or two behind to stay with him on the worse days. 

But on a morning dawned dismal and gray the time arrived at last when old Kloppman would draw his final, shaking breath, and end his reign over the Lodging House. The residents of the house mourned as was appropriate, but other things were to be considered…

Kloppman had not named a successor. 

For boys who would not go far in life, running the Lodging House was like a last hope, and a good one. A secure, ensured bed every night, money to spare, and many under you - no more walking the cobblestones with numb feet, little better than a beggar and about as miserable as one.

It would have taken but a few simple words from his deathbed, but it seemed fated that the one thing that Kloppman neglected would be the thing that set his beloved boys at each other's throats and the peaceful balance of living forever destroyed.

+

The trouble started before I even had a chance to catch my breath and wipe my eyes. Jack Kelly, the arrogant little bastard he always is, called together a 'meeting' with a select few of his cronies. They hadn't even gotten upstairs before some of the others began to protest.

"A meeting for what, Kelly?" Specs spat, his glasses off and eyes rimmed red.

"Who needs an explanation?" It was Racetrack who turned on the larger boy. "It's over your head, boy," he retorted. Specs fumed and Pie-eater came to his side.

"If this is about leadership than we all have a right to be present," he said quietly, eloquently. Jack looked the older boy up and down, then shrugged.

"Fine, come along then."

We - the older residents - retreated upstairs leaving the younger boys down, still with Kloppman. Kid Blink, ever trailing Jack, was left outside to act as a guard for the door. I paused by the window before sitting agreeably on the floor - the cloud cover was thicker than before, and the first spatters of rain were beginning to fall. We had been right to leave selling to the scabbers for the day. 

Jack took one of the three chairs in the bunkroom, Racetrack and Mush the others. Pie-eater and Bumlets lounged on their bunks, Swifty, Specs and Dutchy joined me on the floor. I thought I could see Snitch and Itey lurking in the shadows, but I didn't pursue the thought. 

"Kloppman is dead…" Jack began, floundering.

"And it is us who remain to pay the price." Pie-eater finished solemnly. Jack blinked up at him then nodded.

"Right."

"Why not just get this out?!" Mush looked away from flexing his arm, impatience clear on his face. "The old man is gone, the house needs a keeper, and we sure as hell ain't gonna hire someone outside when we've got plenty boys in here to fill the position!" 

Jack nodded again. "We need a leader," he said plainly, and barely hesitated before adding, "And I think that leader should be me." 

"What?! You're crazy!" Bumlets cried, Pie-eater shook his head and I could feel Swifty tense from beside me. There was murmur of unrest from the shadows as well. I shuddered and glanced to Racetrack, surprised to see him frowning hard.

"Whoa, Cowboy!" He said. "What makes you think you can just step up and take the reins like that?"

Swifty was the only one to crack a smile at this joke, and it went well with the malicious glitter in his eyes. I found myself shuddering again, and suddenly wondered what I was doing in this room, at this time. Surely I should be down, keeping an eye on the younger kids and mourning Kloppman, not here with a bunch of vicious cutthroats who thought only of petty power and petty profit. Of course leaving was no longer an option. 

Cutthroats? Was that really the right word for these boys, a cheerful, trustworthy and ever joking group that had acted as brothers to me? I had grown up with the kids, going with them from scared, young, poor boys to cocky, older, poor boys. But all things in life call for a closer look. And as I sat in that cramped room, only half listening to the arguing, I found that it was here, in a moment of real trouble and decision, that each boy's true personality shone, brighter and uglier than before. 

There was Bumlets, Bumlets with his smooth Spanish accent and perfectly styled hair, who laughed so heartily and smiled so widely with a mirth that never reached his eyes. No, his eyes were cold and harsh with no room for merriment. 

And what of Racetrack, whose treachery ran as thick as his accent, or Pie-eater, wise beyond his years, diplomatic and calm, yet always calculating and manipulating? Of course the most obvious was Jack who was self absorbed and arrogant, but he was predictable. Worse was Swifty, Swifty with his quick smiles and quicker lies - one doesn't earn a nickname like 'the Rake' for nothing. Mush of course, laughing one second and pummeling you the next, picking a fight with anyone and everyone, not caring who.

I shook my head of the unwanted thoughts and focused back onto the discussion. It had progressed into yelling and insults and I felt a headache coming on. Pie-eater's level voice cut through it all, amazingly.

"Bumlets calm down, we can't even understand you… Race, stop spitting…" He sounded quite weary. "This will go nowhere if we can't even talk about it in a civilized manner."

"Civilized, hah! If we take the time to be civilized then we'll be homeless this time next week!"

"Yes, and still duking it out on the streets over a conflict that we'd long since lost the need for!" Pie-eater's soothing tone was considerably quieter than Racetrack's harsh retort.

"Who needs… need?" Mush muttered, but no one paid him any heed.

There was a momentary silence before Jack came in again.

"I still don't see why I can't just take it - you followed me in the strike, why not now?!"

"Oh, no one was passionate about that strike, not like you, Cowboy," Jake said bitterly from the floor behind me. "What else were we supposed to do but go along with what you said?"

"Besides," Dutchy continued for him. "That was a strike, an idea, something we followed because there would be a payoff - we could gain from it. This… this is our home." 

"What, you don't think I'm capable?!" Jack said hotly.

"Jack…" Pie-eater tried to interrupt.

"You think Davey was just putting words in my mouth? You think I'm stupid?" 

"No one ever-"

"Oh shut up!" 

I winced as Pie-eater held up his hands in defeat and disappeared from sight on his bunk… without that shred of sanity there was no telling what this 'meeting' could dissolve into. Now not only had Jack pushed away our greatest asset, he had revealed his worst fears without any provocation. I began to have my doubts on how smart he really _was._

"Why not take a vote?" Specs suggested meekly. A few people looked confused. "You know, over our next landlord," he continued.

"Aw gee, and here I just thought we were bartering over the price of fresh fish!" Racetrack shot. Specs looked hurt but stayed silent. 

"I can see the results now," said a smooth voice to my left. Swifty had half of a mocking smirk lingering on his face. "Jack… one… Race… one… Bumlets… one…" He faced Specs and arched an eyebrow. "Specs… two." Both Specs and Dutchy blushed deeply and I heard a snigger from Mush's direction. I sat quite still, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. Unfortunately that was not an option.

"This one's been quiet. What do you think, Snoddy?" Swifty turned those awful glittering eyes upon me. 

"He doesn't think, that's the problem," Racetrack said under his breath.

I opened my mouth to speak reluctantly but was saved the trouble as Snitch glided into view. He was like a cat, that one. Lithe, silent, and observant. 

"Boys," he said, and his voice was silky, almost like a purr. "Compose yourselves. The younger ones need rest." He looked over to Pie-eater's silent form, added, "and support."

A few seconds later Kid Blink tentatively opened the door and looked to Jack for approval. Jack nodded and a small crowd of the younger boys herded themselves into the room. Some headed to the washroom, others straight for their bunks, but a great many gathered around Pie-eater, who had hopped to the floor and was speaking quieting, comforting words to them as usual. 

I suddenly wished I was young enough to go and stand by his side, looking up at him like the steady, solid presence that he was… instead I had to pretend that I was fine, pretend that I needed no parent-like figure and could easily comfort and fend for myself. I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat and stood up, still feeling a strong need for reassurance, to be told that everything would be ok and that the Lodging House would exist as it always had. That we could go back to joking and laughing innocently, and selling together… and I wouldn't get all these thoughts and images of the true natures of my friends. 

I collapsed readily into my own bed and stretched the cramps from my legs thoughtfully. The early darkness of winter had already set in when we had come up to this foul room, and I knew that now was truly time for bed. How many hours had we spent up here, arguing and arguing and yet gaining nothing? It was a pattern that was due to repeat if a solution wasn't found soon. I could hear Snipeshooter talking worriedly to Pie-eater.

"Pie, Boots says that we need someone to come and take Mr. Kloppman away because we can just _leave_ him there and we can't bring him anywhere but Thorn says that anyone who comes will take the Lodging House away and then we'll be on the streets, he said it happened in Queens, Pie I don't want to leave and I don't want to go to Queens, but we can't just _leave_ Mr. Kloppman we just _can't!_ Snipeshooter's voice dissolved into sniffles. I found myself rolling over as to better hear Pie-eater's answer, but they had moved away and out of earshot. 

I shifted into a more comfortable position and fell into a fitful sleep as the noise began to quiet down…

+

It was completely dark in the bunkroom when I was shaken awake by a strong hand. I groaned and was quieted, once my eyes had adjusted to the feeble glow of a stolen lantern from downstairs I saw that it was Pie-eater rousing me.

"Wha…?" I tried to form words without success, still groggy with sleep.

"Shh… come with me, put on some coat or something, it's pouring outside, slippery and freezing."

I nodded numbly and stood, the creaky wooden boards like ice beneath my feet. While there was no snow to remind us of the winter we lived in, the cold was bad enough for any amount of the white powder. I found two other, heavier shirts and pulled them on, shivering madly, then followed Pie-eater quietly out the door and down the stairs to the small room where Kloppman still lay. Bumlets, Mush, and Snitch were all there waiting.

"Took ya long enough, Snodd," Mush mumbled, obviously not fully awake himself. "Thought you was dead for a minute or so there." 

"Two bodies would have been much harder to carry," Bumlets told me matter of factly. "So thanks for finally gracing us with your presence."

"Though it would have been nice to have an extra bed," Snitch said, a little wistfulness creeping into his voice. I ignored him.

"Wait - bodies? Moving bodies? What?!"

"That's right," Pie-eater said. "We're disposing of Kloppman - right now." 

"I-what?!" I said again.

"Quiet down," Snitch hissed, cat-like again. "We woke you because you were strong, not because we wanted you to bring the Lodging House down around our heads!"

"Ok… ok…" I forced myself to calm down. Pie-eater squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. 

"Alright," he said, moving ahead. "…let's go in."

I took the old man's legs, careful to avoid looking directly at him. Snitch opened and closed doors quietly behind us as we moved out.

"Where exactly are we putting this here body?" I asked Snitch as we emerged into the fresh air. He winced against the biting rain and then told me simply:

"We're just the middlemen, bringing him to Swifty… he'll… he said he'd take care of the rest?"

"Swifty? But he's in the Lodging House!" I protested.

"Nah, he left after you knocked yourself out," Bumlets said from one side.

"The important thing is that you keep quiet tomorrow and agree with whatever I say," Pie-eater reminded me from his station at Kloppman's shoulders and head. "No matter what happens tonight."

The other two nodded and murmured their agreement and I had a feeling that they had heard the warning before. 

Snitch disappeared ahead, presumably to scout for any prying eyes or unwanted visitors. It was very dark and the rain covered up both sound and smell, but caution would not be regretted in a city where shadows moved and walls talked.

How long we walked, I'm not sure, it was hard to gauge with no moon and no conversation to pass the time. I was freezing and half asleep on my feet, my arms aching from carrying Kloppman's own limbs. 

At last Snitch returned from one of his excursions to motion us into a narrow alley. We pivoted in and then entered a low door set in the wall a few yards down. 

We got through with some difficulty and I was surprised at the scene which unfolded.

All loud talking and betting ceased as we entered, and Swifty stood up from his place at a half-rotten table across from the door. He put down his cards and the girl on his lap and came immediately to meet us. 

The door had opened into a fair sized room, alive with all breeds of creatures of the night. The thick stone was of the walls was moldy and dripping with moisture, there were several leaks as well. All in all, not a place where I would opt to spend my time, though I wasn't shocked to see Swifty right at home in the thick of it. Swifty showed no expression as he greeted us.

"It's about time," he said dryly. 

"Yeah, well, we had to get this one up," Mush said, freeing one hand to jerk his thumb at me.

"And we had to take a detour around sixteenth," Snitch added. So that was why it had taken so long.

Swifty ignored them both and continued to talk to Pie-eater. Snitch immediately made himself scarce.

"Is there anything on him? No small coins?" He asked quickly. Pie-eater winced.

"I didn't check, I doubt it." 

"There isn't," Snitch said as he came back looking grim. Swifty nodded, satisfied.

"Alright. Bring him over here… just set him on the floor there."

I dropped Kloppman with the rest and stood straight. A chill ran down my spine as I felt a cool hand on my shoulder, then running through my hair. 

"Hey cutie, what are you doing here?" A light voice cooed softly from behind me.

"Leave him alone, Elizabeth," Swifty said boredly, not even turning from his conversation with Pie-eater. "He's not interested." 

Elizabeth dropped her hand and came around to my front, looking me up and down. She was of medium height, skinny with long matted brown hair. Her blue eyes seemed cloudy and listless despite a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She took a step forward and boldly grabbed the front of my shirt, tugging me closer and to eye level.

"Come on, big boy," she said huskily. "Don't think you can take it?"

I watched her tongue run over her lips, completely at a loss for words, and then jumped back as Swifty pulled the girl off me. He spun her around and backhanded her viciously.

"I thought I told you to stay away!" He yelled, then slammed her into a table and turned his back, seething. Elizabeth choked back a sob and I stared, then shivered again and looked to Mush, whose mouth and eyes were wide open. The silence that had reigned with Swifty's wrath hadn't lasted long, nobody seemed to really care or think it was anything out of the ordinary. Another woman with shockingly red hair and a full body was snickering, but no other emotion was shown.

"So you'll be back by tomorrow?" Pie-eater was asking.

"Dunno. Maybe?"

"You should be… Jack's probably going to start lobbying for leadership again."

"Ah yes. Hell though, I don't care about that whole deal. And there's no one to warm my bed for me at the Lodging House."

I noticed then his grip around a different girl. I saw that she was the one that was on his lap before. She peered lovingly up at him through curtains of lush blonde hair, and I felt sick to my stomach. Did Swifty use and abuse her, too? I looked to Pie-eater, who was still focused on Swifty, and shrugging.

"I know, but if-"

"Yeah, yeah… I don't want Jack getting the position, you don't have to remind me. God I hate that bastard… I'll still help you, don't worry."

Pie-eater looked slightly relieved and I frowned. Did this mean Swifty was going to help him secure the position of landlord? As much as I wanted Pie-eater to be the lucky one, I felt uneasy about him running with the likes of Swifty. But it wasn't my place to say anything.

"You all ready?" Pie-eater was turned to us now. "We should head back."

We followed him silently outside, where it was still raining. 

"Somehow," Pie-eater said once he had shut the door. "It seemed a lot colder in there than it is out here."

I thought that summed it all up pretty well.

-

****

Author's Note: This is actually the beginning of a story I wrote back in July, while I was at my sister's college freshmen orientation. I've been thinking about picking it up again, because several character relationships are already developed (there's about two more chapters already written) and I've been in the mood to jump into the middle of something, rather than the beginning, lately. Anyway, please review, because it makes me happy. I'm going to go make some toast. -Kez


	2. Playing the Deck

****

Keeping it Safe_  
Chapter Two: Playing the Deck_

"Bust."

I sighed and slid my cards back over to Racetrack. He held out his hand and cleared his throat expectantly and I obliged with a few pennies as well. I didn't know why I always played with him. Race wasn't exactly good at cards, but he was a fantastic cheater, making winning near impossible. I placed another bet out of sheer boredom, Bumlets, Dutchy, and Jake followed suit. Specs watched the game over Dutchy's shoulder. Things were quiet in the bunkroom after a tiring day of selling - at least for a time.

Jack hadn't showed up yet, so with no one to start the trouble we were all just relaxing before bed, careful not to mention the situation at hand.

I could see Pie-eater in the corner explaining what had happened to Kloppman ("We buried him last night," he had reminded me quietly) to the younger kids, the older ones knew well enough that it wasn't wise to ask questions. Racetrack dealt me two more cards and I picked them up reluctantly and made a face. 

"Why, again, do we let him deal?"

The other grumbled in agreement.

"Blackjack," Racetrack said with a toothy smile. The rest of us threw in our cards and walked away. "Hey! HEY! Fellas, your bets… come on, now!"

"I'm ready to turn in," Specs said with a yawn.

"I'm staying up a little longer," Bumlets said with narrowed eyes. "Who knows, maybe Jack is planning to murder us all in bed when he returns."

Specs halted mid yawn. "Thanks for that cheery thought."

Bumlets laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Anytime," he said.

I went to bed with the rest of them, though I stayed awake for awhile, staring at the ceiling. I was awake enough to hear the wet slap of footsteps outside, and therefore wasn't surprised from my slumber when a loud banging knock sounded at the front door. I heard a few others wake with gasps our stifled cries, only Pie-eater rose silently. He met my eyes over the tops of the bunks between us. He had locked the door earlier - now it seemed like Jack was finally back, at whatever ungodly hour it happened to be.

Pie seemed to be looking to me for a decision. I shrugged and then slipped to the floor. Swifty and Race were up and Pie joined us, several other must have been awake, but no others volunteered.

The knocks came again. Pie sighed and led the way downstairs, we didn't try to muffle the creaky steps - everyone was probably awake now, and would be awake to witness whatever scene unfolded. I hoped nothing too drastic would be done.

Pie-eater unlocked the door and opened it as we reached the entry, but didn't move from the frame, thus successfully blocking whoever was outside from entering.

And it _was_ Jack, dirty, drunk, and all scuffed up. Pie looked at him with disgust, like Jack was a bug he had just stepped on. Jack stared in for a second, then blinked and stared at Pie, looking confused. His eyes were glassy, one of them black and blue, and he sported a fair number of other cuts and scrapes with dust and grime trapped in the grease of his hair. I could hear Swifty scoff behind me and I inwardly rolled my eyes as well. So, this was the great leader he wanted us to have? Maybe it would be better if everyone say him like this. Saw that he wasn't always the hero. Pie-eater seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Come on in, Jack," he said, no questions asked. "I'll get the door. Let's get you up to bed." Pie closed and locked the door while Swifty took one of Jack's arms and began hauling him up the stairs. I expected Racetrack to pitch in and help, but the smaller boy shied away from his touch, a hard frown on his face and contempt in his eyes.

We got Jack up eventually and all murmuring and muttering in the bunkroom ceased as we opened the door. 

Swifty pushed Jack off his shoulder, leaving him to stagger into the middle of the room and then promptly collapse.

"Oh, you bastard," Swifty hissed, and moved to kick his limp form, but Pie drew him back.

"You don't need to set an example too," he told him softly. Swifty grumbled but stayed put./ To my surprise, it was Racetrack who spoke first. 

"So," he said loudly, clearly, and everyone sat up in their beds. "This… this is the leader we were promised. Here he is, ready to take charge of the lodging house and its boarders - us." He walked over and turned Jack on his back with his foot, then quickly backed up. Jack was already asleep, drooling, with a few of his cuts bleeding again and a fresh bruise on his shoulder. Another murmur went through those assembled, even a few sniggers.

"Take a good look at him now," Racetrack continued. "Cause in the morning, he'll be ugly."

Once again Bumlets was the only one to laugh, a loud, hearty sound that made me shiver.

"Let's go back to bed," Pie said into my ear. I nodded and made my way to my bunk. Racetrack did too, though not until he could pass by Jack again and spit in his form. I noticed that Swifty "accidentally" stepped on the cowboy on the way by as well. I found myself smirking under my covers and sickly realized I sounded a lot like when I thought: "Serves the bastard right."

+

The next day dawned brighter than usual, and I was mildly surprised to find Jack gone from the floor. Kid Blink had probably moved him, the doting fool. Pie-eater's head appeared at the side of my bed.

"You up?" I nodded, and he moved on. Pie had taken on the task of waking us all up in time to get a hold of the morning edition. I admired him for volunteering for so much responsibility without ever being asked and had decided days ago that he was the best and obvious choice for landlord. Unfortunately, the others, self absorbed and focused on 'power,' failed to see this logic. I could only hope they'd eventually come around.

I splashed my face with freezing water from the tub and looked up at my reflection. Brooding eyes under a mop of auburn hair, rosy cheeks and thoughtful expression. I looked older than I was, and much older than I felt. I continued to stare at myself, watching droplets of water drip off my eyes and chin, never really feeling them. I couldn't stay in this 'business' much longer - I was getting to be too old, to grow bored of the same routine. I was near time to leave and become tired of a new routine. Maybe now would be the perfect time, with the chaos that reigned, changing the lodging house from it's former position of safe haven to place of flaring tempers and manipulative teenagers…

I shook the rest of the water off my face and clomped downstairs to begin the walk to the distribution center and the start of my day.

I didn't see Jack at the center, or out selling, and no one I talked to seemed to either. It wasn't until I got back to the lodging house mid-evening that I discovered why.

I entered the house as usual and was about to head upstairs when someone grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back.

"You trying to get away without paying?" Jack's voice sneered into my ear.

"What are you talking about?" We hadn't had to sign in and pay up since Kloppman had fallen sick. Kid Blink came forward and shrugged, holding the ledger out to me.

"Look, you want a bed or not?"

I hadn't been expecting this, not at all, and I had spent any money I wouldn't use tomorrow on a decent meal. I rolled my eyes and pushed through the two.

"Oh, give it a rest," I said, but then Mush appeared to block the staircase. He had his sleeves rolled up and looked at me without emotion.

"Pay up," he echoed coldly. 

"No way," I said, more in disbelief than refusal. Mush took a step forward, balling his fists.

"Then leave!"

I looked at the three in turn, then went back the way I came and slammed the door behind me. My feet slipped and slid on the frost encrusted cobblestones and I felt a burning hatred for those who thought they could take our leadership by force - no, who _could_ take it, without anyone to say otherwise. I knew that staying outside meant freezing to death, so I hung around the door, sure there was some other way.

To my relief, Swifty was the next person to come around. 

"What are you doing hanging around out here?" He asked with a frown.

"Go in," I said dully, my teeth chattering like mad. "You'll see."

He frowned again, then shrugged and stepped inside. I sniggered under my breath. Swifty would teach them. 

"You're WHAT?!" He yelled from inside. There was a crash, then more sounds of scuffling from inside, and at last a form hit the door and then Swifty came stumbling out. I winced.

"Was that you?"

He stood to his full height and cast a glare back at the building. "What, the door? Nah, that was Blink. But I figured I'd better leave before things got rough. You don't have to be Racetrack to know bad odds." I nodded and resumed my shivering. "You're going to die out here," Swifty told me. "Come stay with me tonight. I'm sure Pie will have it all sorted out by the morning."

"Was he in there?"

"He must be - he had a feeling Jack would try and pull something, so he stopped selling early."

"Well, he should have told the rest of us," I grumbled as I followed Swifty away.

We ended up in the same alley I had gone to before, but it seemed to take much less time to get there. I figured that maybe I was just delirious from the cold.

Swifty ushered me in and closed the door firmly behind, then turned to a burly, thug-like man near the door and motioned to me.

"He has to stay here tonight. I'll cover any cost - just make sure he has a decent bed."

The man shrugged and turned to speak to someone behind him. Swifty led me deeper into the room.

"Drink?" He asked, taking a dirty mug for himself. I declined, looking uneasily about me. There were more people than in the previous night, betting loudly and drinking proudly like before. The same small blonde girl ran up to Swifty and buried her head in his chest. I hadn't realized how slight she was, she looked prone to breaking in half at a moment's notice. 

"I missed you last night," she said breathlessly. Swifty pushed her away in favor of his mug.

"I doubt that," he growled. The girl looked shocked, then embarrassed, and disappeared into the shadows near the right wall. A few minutes later I saw her being fondled by some other card player and turned back to Swifty to block the sight. He didn't seem to have noticed - or at least he didn't show it. 

"You're welcome to go right up to sleep," he said to me. "Of course, you can stay down here and get yourself into some trouble, if you're willing."

I hesitated, and he laughed. "Ok, I see your answer. Stay down for a bit. Go ahead and wander, but…" He frowned, casting a glance around the room. "You may want to stick with me." I nodded, that had been my plan. I had horrible visions of straying off and getting beaten up, or who knows what. At least Swifty seemed to command some sort of respect. I briefly wondered why - he wasn't very old, and hell, he worked as a newsboy most of the time. But I wasn't about to go digging in whatever mystery surrounded him. I could never get used to Swifty, unpredictable and ruthless as he was. I was constantly on my guard around him. 

Swifty sat me down hard, then pulled a chair for himself and threw a few quarters on the table.

"Deal us in."

Someone slid me two cards and I groaned before I even checked their value.

"You have no idea, I'm horrible at Blackj-"

Swifty had flipped my other card over. An ace and a king.

"Blackjack," he said with a cheery smile, and collected the money on the table. He dropped half of it into my hands. I didn't press for the other half, instead I pocketed the change and stood up.

"So soon? Hows 'bout one more hand?" the dealer asked around his cigar. I shook my head.

"I'll never trust whatever luck I have," I told him and then turned to Swifty. "I really am tired. Thanks for taking me in, at least."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure," he said. "Here, Jacklyn will show you up." He motioned to a girl that had been hovering near the table. "Find a bed for him, Jackie."

"What, mine?" She asked with an arched eyebrow. Swifty paused and looked to me. I shook my head, eyes down and cheeks burning. 

"Nope," he answered with another small smile. "But something nice."

"Nice?" She scoffed. Swifty flipped her a coin, which she caught and hid faster than the eye could follow. "I have just the place," she told me. Swifty grinned, slapped me on the back, and turned back to the game.

Jacklyn led me through the smoke to a door in the corner. She has barely closed it when I heard a roar and the smash of a table. Jacklyn didn't even blink.

"Not again," she sighed.

I followed her up a narrow staircase, the close pressing walls and stench of confinement making me feel nauseous. At last we reached a dim and equally narrow hallway, and she pushed open a door a few feet down and to the right. She held it open and entered after me, then lit a lamp at the opposite end. She turned around and I took a step back in surprise. What a different that one feeble light could create. I saw a weary woman looking back at me, not a sultry girl. Her green eyes were tired, not bright. Her black hair was worn and frizzy, not smooth. 

She caught me staring and raised an eyebrow once again. My blush deepened and I cast my eyes down.

"Thanks," I said.

"Of course," she answered automatically, but didn't move her gaze. I could feel it burning into my forehead.

Suddenly she recrossed the room and tilted my chin up with the cold tips of her fingers.

"Why so shy?" She asked softly. "There's no need to be afraid."

I was too much of a novice with women to know if this was genuine concern or not. I decided to play it safe and assume that she was asking for something. So I didn't answer, only moved away to the bed.

"You should probably get back down now," I mumbled. "Someone must be waiting for you." I kept my eyes down. I didn't want to have to look into her haunting eyes again.

"Well," she said, playing with a lock of her hair. "Maybe you're right. We all have to work to earn our beds, don't we?"

So with a swish of skirts and black hair, she was gone. I remained sitting on the bed, staring at the door for some time. I wondered who she was 'working to earn' her stay with, then shook the thought from my head. It was none of my business. 

It seemed like I had just rested my head on the moth-eaten pillow when I heard someone trying to break the door in. I jumped up, immediately on guard - but it was only Swifty. 

"UP YET?!" He bellowed. "HURRY UP IF YOU WANT YOUR PAPES!"

I quickly opened the door and almost got a fist in my face. Swifty recovered and smiled briefly.

"Good. Ready to head out?" 

"Only if you can show me the way."

"So," he began as we walked down the street. "How was Jackie last night?"

"Hmm?" I met his eyes. "Oh… she was… uhh… nice?" 

Swifty seemed to have a sudden coughing problem. "_What?! _"Nice?" What's that supposed to mean!" We had stopped in the middle of the road now. I shrugged.

"She was nice. I guess."

"You guess? Boy, you're a harsh judge."

And then it dawned on me. "Oh! No. No, no. She just showed me to my room. That's all."

Swifty still refused to start walking again. 

"That's all?! Jesus Christ, you sure know how to let a good opportunity slip through your fingers." He moved away and I jogged to catch up. He was in such a good mood… I decided to try my luck with something that had been bothering me. I remembered Jacklyn's eyes.

"She's not an object, you know."

Swifty didn't falter. "Hmm?"

"Those girls. You treat them like… like meat!"

Swifty just shrugged. "In a way, that's what they are," he said somberly. "Meat, I mean."

"But… they're people!" 

He shook his head. "To be a person, you have to have a soul," he said, and left it at that. I couldn't help but think to myself that if what he said was true, Swifty was farther from being a real person than all those girls combined. 

"Don't worry about It," he said after a few moments. "They get what comes to them. What they deserve." A chill ran down my spine and I knew that it wasn't from the cold outside. The rest of the walk was in silence. 

"Just in time," Swifty said, following me to the end of the line at the Distribution Office. "Tell Pie I'll meet up with him at twelve noon, like yesterday."

I nodded obediently and joined Snipeshooter to wait for my papers. 

"Where were you last night?" He asked immediately after Swifty was gone from sight. I wasn't the only one made uneasy by that boy. 

"No money," I said with a shrug. "Had to find a different place to stay."

"Where? When? With who? Why, again?"

I had just settled on ignoring him when Pie came to meet me. He was carrying a large stack of papers, and he promptly gave a chunk of them to me.

"You can come back tonight," he told me as I stepped out of line and rifled through a paper. "I talked to Jack and everyone. We're going to have a final discussion about the leadership tonight."

I looked up from the papers. "Good." Then, "Swifty said for you to meet him at noon 'like yesterday.'"

"Ok," Pie nodded, then looked a little surprised. "So, is that where you were last night? With Swifty?"

"Yup. Strange, I know, he offered - he didn't want to pay Jack, and the only money I had was for this morning's papers. Oh yeah, let me pay you for these…" I started digging around in my pockets, but Pie just brushed me off absentmindedly. He had all of the sudden become very distracted.

"Don't worry about it," he murmured. We started to walk away. No more was said on the matter. 

Selling was no easy task that day. Besides it being a freezing, windy day, the headline was only mediocre and I found it hard to keep concentrated on selling when truly my mind was going over and over the events that had shaped the previous night, and those that could unroll on the one approaching. The fact that Pie, whom I sold with until around quarter to twelve, looked constantly troubled, did nothing to ease my worry. When it came time to head home I ended up selling the bulk of my papers back and walked home with very little change in my pockets. It had been a bad day, and the coming night was not looking anymore promising. 

-

****

Author's Note: How's _that_ for promptness? Woo. Man, I love evil Swifty so much. If you enjoy him as well - and, yes this is a plug - go read "The Rake" which is one of the stories in the "One Night Stand" collection of mine. You'll like it.

****

THANK YOU REVIEWERS!  
Shade: Good, I'm glad.  
**Gothitica: **I'm a big fan of Gangs (Henry Thomas and Daniel Day-Lewis! -worships-) and Gladiator too. But it's 'woo' not 'woot.' Tsk tsk. We will not have a 't' in my presence!  
**Omni: **You are the most sense-makingish person I've ever met in my whole life. Savvy?  
**Shortie: **Loves! -doesn't know what else to say-  
**Glim: **Yay AoN! I want two chapters before Christmas break, chop chop! Yes, perhaps the characterizations are a bit different than what you usually see. That's good though. I do like my Swifty the Rake. -beams-  
**Wings: **Why thank you! Yes, the whole thing really is quite amusing. The plot is a little mockingly melodramatic, but the actual story is sort of serious. I guess I'm cool like that. Heh heh. Weird, really.  
**Tabs: **You sick child… kids these days, all they think about is sex. Necrophilia. Hah. No, darling, that was not involved. -grin- And HEY don't beat up on evil Swifty. He's my favorite. Next to Pie.  
**Amy: **I'm really REALLY hoping that your review had one major typo. For 'socks.' Although it WOULD be extremely amusing to see someone with multiple… ah… genitalia?   
**ershey: **Yes, you make perfect sense. Truly. And thanks, I try.   
**Thistle: **Jack isn't really liked by me, that's the problem! -cackles- He's been such a bastard in all my recent fics. Whoops! Yes, poor Jack.  
**Falco: **I do love your use of spacing. Keep it up, team! I'll explain 'the rake thing' later. Don't forget to water that brownie mix down!  
  
Oh reviewers, how I worship you, please, please, please review and grace me with your presence once more. -bow-


	3. Promises Kept

****

Keeping it Safe  
_Chapter Three: Promises Kept_

Either I was late, or they were all early. In any way, everyone was seated around a common area when I came into the bunkroom. Nothing official seemed to have started, but I knew they weren't waiting for me… so what was the hold up? A fast glance around the room and to Pie and his quickly darting eyes told me all I needed to know - Swifty wasn't present. I felt a twinge of doubt in the pit of my own stomach. I knew Pie needed Swifty to intimidate those that may oppose him. Any level headed, clear minded soul could see that Pie was the best choice, but there were a fair number of self centered minds that would rather relocate than see someone other than themselves - a peer - in charge of their living. And with about half a older dozen boys of the same age still hanging around the Lodging House, things promised to get messy.

I could see now that Pie was trying to stall the rest of them without saying why. So far he seemed like he had been successful, though Jack was beginning to become antsy. 

I nodded a greeting to those assembled and settled myself on the floor beside Specs, who had his head bent in discussion with Dutchy. What's new? I noticed then that even the youngest boys were in the room and awake, though sitting more to the back. 

"What do you think?" I whispered to Jake, behind me again.

"Why are you whispering?" He asked in return. I paused.

"Sorry. But I'm nervous." 

He shrugged. "Not me. Someone will get it, of course. I'm sure once they're settled in we'll all be fine."

I wished I could share his indifference, but it wasn't so. I was at the point now where I thought that if Pie didn't win, I may not be able to stay.

"I think Pie-eater would be the best choice," I told him casually.

"Yeah, me too."

And then Swifty entered. He took a seat next to Pie, where the two immediately began a rapidly paced conversation. A moment later Swifty got up and disappeared again. For some reason I had a feeling it was to cover the door.

"Hey, didn't we agree to do this thing tonight?" Mush's voice cut through and silenced the side discussions and murmurs. He was glaring at Pie, who shrugged.

"Well, yeah. I was just waiting up for all of you."

"Let's get started, then." Jack stood up. "Everyone interested in being landlord will present their case." It was plain that this speech had been practiced. Jack wasn't a big talker. "And we'll talk it out and vote for the right one." He sure seemed civil that night. I wondered if Pie had said anything to him beforehand.

"Present their case?" Bumlets' scornful voice immediately made itself known. "Jack, we all know each other here, maybe know each other too well. Nothing anyone says is going to change a vote."

Jack faltered, then shrugged. "Ok, then. Who's counting the votes?"

"How about Snoddy?" Mush suggested. Damn! I just shrugged, inclined my head.

"Sure," I agreed.

"Ok, then," Jack nodded as well. His gaze lingered on mine.

Blink had torn paper squares from a stray newspaper, and promptly passed them around. Surprisingly, it was quiet Specs who rose a complaint.

"What about the boys?"

Blink turned to face him. "What?"

"The boys. The kids, the little ones. Why are they here, you didn't give them any slips." 

Blink now spun to Jack, at a loss for words. Jack looked puzzled as well. 

"Give them some paper, Blink," Pie said. "They live here too."

"Easy for you to agree," Bumlets scowled. Of course. While Pie was popular with the smaller boys, Bumlets was in more of a position of fear. He made them uneasy, and had never done anything to dispel these feelings. Now it would come back and slap him in the face. 

"Why should they get a whole vote?" He continued. "They don't even understand what's going on!"

"Don't be stupid, of course they do." Pie met his eyes. I heard a creak from the stairs. "Besides, who's going to be in this place longer, us or them?"

"Who knows." Bumlets' raised an eyebrow, a gesture that suggested indifference and challenge, but I knew he was scared now. "It's a tough world. Besides, who knows better, older or younger-"

"-hard to tell sometimes," Race muttered from his corner.

"-who has more experience? They don't know what they're doing, what the consequences will be. They couldn't pick a suitable leader from a pigeon."

"Well, then it's a good thing you don't have feathers, Bumlets." Pie's eyes narrowed. "You forget yourself. You forget that you were in their position once, not exactly, but yes, you were that age. And you weren't stupid."

I hated to interrupt Pie, but - "What do they think?" I asked quietly. 

"Good question," he sighed, and heads craned to face the trembling group in the back. A nervous looking Snipeshooter stepped out. 

"We want to vote," he said simply. 

"Jesus, let them vote," Jack said, the first time he had spoken since the whole thing had started. 

"Of course. Half of them still worship him," Jake snickered into my ear. 

Ah, right. The strike. Damn him!

Bumlets retreated, defeated but not willing to say so. Kid Blink reluctantly stood up again and gave each of the younger boys a piece of newspaper. We waited and took turns using a few chunks of charcoal. All of the smudged pieces were passed to me, and I started to go downstairs to count them in private. Dutchy accompanied me as a witness, and to help count.

Swifty put a hand out to stop me before I went down, then he soundlessly passed me a square of his own. Dutchy and I proceeded. 

We sat behind Kloppman's old desk and counted what we had silently.

"A lot of people voting for Bumlets," Dutchy commented after a few minutes. He sounded slightly surprised. "Same with Jack."

"What about Racetrack?" I hadn't seen any.

"A few. But I didn't think he was really interested anymore."

"The majority is definitely going to Pie," I said, and couldn't keep the relief from my voice. Dutchy smiled.

"Yeah. Whew." 

We both finished at roughly the same time and exchanged glances. 

"Count 'em up," Dutchy said softly, and pushed over his tallies. I took them wordlessly and struggled with the equations, going over the math three times in my head to make sure that I had it right. I wrote down the sums and stoof.

"Let's go up."

Dutchy didn't press me about the answers. Swifty opened the door before my hand even touched the knob, and a silent bunkroom greeted me. I checked the answers I had written a few more times. I spoke quietly, but I knew every person there could hear the words.

"Pie-eater, you may want to gather your stuff." 

A few people applauded, some even cheered, and of course Jack and Bumlets looked angry - Racetrack had an unrecognizable expression on his own face. But Pie only looked more worried, and for a second I wondered if he had understood.

"You're in, Pie," I said. He nodded slightly. Bumlets, who had been fuming quietly on the floor suddenly leapt to his feet and came striding towards me, his face contorted with fury. His fist was raised, and I took an involuntary step backwards. 

"I knew this would happen, you dirty, cheating, sonuva-"

Swifty smoothly moved in front of me and grabbed the Hispanic's fist, yanked it back, and buried a knee into his stomach. He let Bumlets slide to the floor a groaning mess, then turned coldly to the rest of the Lodging House's inhabitants. 

"I don't see any real point to challenging our new authority," he said calmly. "How 'bout you, Snoddy?"

I shook my head fiercely, knees shaking. "He won, it was fair, I swear. We have to accept it now," I said.

"It was fair," Dutchy echoed. 

"I agree, it must be accepted," Pie said clearly. Finally. I smiled weakly at him. "You've all decided where your loyalties lie, there's no use looking back at the voting." 

"Loyalties lie," Swifty chuckled quietly from behind me. My head whipped around to face him, but he was busy inspecting his nails.

"I decided where my loyalties lay before the vote even took place," Bumlets spat, eyes burning. He had just gotten up.

"If you don't like it, why are you here?" Swifty asked.

"Good question," Bumlets said. He surveyed the room once, then strode out without looking back. I noticed someone else skitter from the shadows to join him, but I couldn't tell who it was.

"Well, there's one," Pie said calmly. "Anyone else _that _unhappy?"

Jack exchanged glances with a few others, but no one else moved an inch.

"Good," Pie murmured, looking about him. "I'll occupy Kloppman's old office, then. The boarding fee will be set at what it used to be, signing in is required. My rule will be Kloppman's. Think of me and treat me as you would him. We'll adjust because we have to." Pie stood, his speech apparently over. He then gathered up his clothes and other small items and left without another word. 

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm wiped out," Specs said, if only to break the awkward silence that had taken hold.

"I guess I'll hit the sack too," Racetrack said. Murmurs of agreement were heard. I put the votes in a box near my own bunk and settled in, ready to drift off to a nice, peaceful, painless sleep when-

**__**

Bang!

I jumped up, startled, and found myself on the street in front of the Lodging House before I had even registered what had happened. 

There were others, many others, down there as well. I joined a circle centered around something - no, someone. I peeked through the crowd and then gasped in spite of myself… in horror. Bumlets lay in a misshapen mass on the cobblestones, multiple holes in his stomach and legs, a gunshot wound to his head. Blood was pooling in the cracks between the stones and trickling down to my feet. I took a few steps forward, my feet making sick splashing sounds in the mess.

The culprit, who had been hidden before by those gathered now faced me head on. Pie-eater stood blood flecked and gun in hand, at Bumlets' side. A crimson soaked knife was at his feet. I felt like throwing up, but could barely breathe. No one spoke, and I could find only one intelligible word come to my mind. I directed it towards Pie, whose head was down.

"Why?"

Pie looked up and I took a step back as his eyes bored in to mine.

"It was necessary," he said in a detached voice.

"What?!"

"He was an enemy. He posed a threat. Now he can do no harm."

"Well I'll say!" I was almost hysterical now. "But - wait - who… how - who gave you the gun? The knife? Where did you get them?"

He nodded in the opposite directions, to Bumlets' feet, and I looked over to face Swifty, smiling one of his smug smiles. I must have had an accusing look, for he shrugged.

"Hey, he asked," he said, as if that explained everything. "You think his corruption is my fault?" And he laughed. Off in the distance I heard a voice yelling.

"Aw, great - it's the bulls! Let's go, wake up!" Racetrack yelled, then sprinted away into the darkness. I stood still, now alone but confused. Why would the bulls be yelling about getting up to sell?

"Let's GO! I know how long you boys take in the washroom, we should be getting up two hours before usual! Hey, Snoddy, are you dead?"

I blinked. "Pie?"

"Uh… yeah. Yoi ok?" He peered up but I immediately recoiled away.

"Just fine," I said weakly. "Uhm. Do we know where Bumlets is?"

"Oh, him, right. He crawled back in here late last night. I should probably wake the scum up." And then he was off. That was that.

I still felt uneasy. I dropped to the floor and almost killed myself on my blankets - they had apparently fallen during the night. That could explain why I couldn't feel my feet or fingers. I replaced them in a heap, ran a hand through my hair, and made my way to the washroom. 

I took Racetrack's razor blade and was soon sucked into the usual dance of a morning routine; grab a towel here, dodge a rushing boy and a jet of water there. Commands were shouted across the room in a way that almost resembled a rhythm, and some truly fancy footwork was performed by those crazy enough to get in one another's way. 

We poured out onto the street like a flood and I'll readily admit that it was weird not to see Pie amongst the laughing, jeering boys assembled. I looked back one and saw him standing in the doorway, watching over us all with was seemed like a fond, fatherly expression. Like we were his children - which, in a way, I guess we now were.

Later that evening I sat with Pie as he went over some papers he had found in Kloppman - no, his now - office. 

"So, how did Swifty help anyway?" I asked. We had been talking about the whole voting ordeal and other people in general.

"Connections," Pie said, then laughed. He was in a good mood since his first day had passed so smoothly. "Hah. Nah, Swifty's just a good person to have on your side, you know?" I knew. "Sure, he's got connections for whatever you may end up needing, but he's also good at that intimidation factor. Not afraid to pick a fight or piss someone off. You can tell."

"Yeah."

"I don't pay him or anything, he thought I should be landlord, and therefore helped… stubborn bastard. But I think a lot of it is because he hates Jack so much. Sometime I'd like to see them meet each other, alone, in a dark alley."

"Ha! Don't embarrass Jack, though. I think we both know he'd just run."

"You're probably right. Anyway, Swifty's keeping an eye on him and his gang for a little longer… if only to make sure they aren't scheming anything. You know."

"I do." A pause. "But what else? You were always hooking up or talking about something. Are you two going steady?"

Pie cracked a grin. "Nah. Mainly it was just us discussing what Jack and company were up to, that kind of stuff. You know, he tried to corner me and get me to leave/"  
"Who? Jack?"

"The very one. Seal this for me? Anyway, Swifty had barely showed his face when they fled."

I kept pressing. "There must be more."

Pie blushed and bent his head over his work. "Go to bed, pest."

"Ohh, there's more! Tell me about her -- I mean, it." I was enjoying myself immensely.

"Well… Swifty introduced us, of course." He hesitated. "She's beautiful… and actually has some wit about her too. Jackie -- I mean -- Jacklyn." 

I swear my heart stopped for a few seconds.

"Sounds familiar," I finally choked out. Pie didn't notice.

"She's great," he said. "Listened to me and even answers back." He seemed to be off in his own world. "Of course, we only met a few weeks ago, but…"

"Where does she live?" I asked. Didn't he know?

"Lower East Side, I think. Makes dresses, and you can tell, too. Such lovely, deft hands…"

Pie kept talking but all I could hear was Jacklyn's voice in my head, almost mockingly now, "We all have to work to earn our beds."

I felt sick. What game was Swifty playing? And hell, what was Jacklyn doing? I stood up abruptly and almost knocked my chair down in my haste to get away before I let slip anything I'd regret.

"Where is Swifty?" I asked as casually as possible. 

"Eh, at that hideout of his, I think. You ok?"

"Fine, just tired," I said. "Uhm… see you in the morning, then?"

"Night."

I lay awake for what seemed like hours, afraid to sleep lest I was visited by mire dreams, thought the thoughts now occupying my head were even worse. I fancied I could see the sun rising when I finally drifted off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Pie's way too cheery voice cut and butchered my sleep again and I was halfway through the process of rolling out of my bed when I remembered that I was sleeping on a top bunk. I recovered in time to swing safely down and jam a foot in Snipeshooter's stomach. I apologized profusely and stumbled into the washroom, my thoughts still groggy. Then I splashed water on my face and it all came back to me, everything that Pie and I had discussed the previous night. I felt a feeling of guiltiness that had no reason to be mine wash over me, and decided to confront Pie about it that night.

Once again my selling suffered due to my distractions. I was convinced that I had to talk to Pie, but I had no idea what I would say. Around noon Bumlets casually approached the corner I had staked out and waited by my side until there was a dull moment.

"How goes it?" He asked.

"Alright," I said. "I'm about half done. Nice day."

"Yeah," he agreed, and continued to stand in silence. I sold a few more papers and then turned back.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying not to sound annoyed. Apparently he had been waiting for this.

"A lot of things," he admitted. "The Lodging House… Pie out… and you."

This didn't look good.

"Why me?" I asked cautiously.

"Because. You know Pie better than I do-"

"You can't ask me to betray him."

"Who says I was?" He paused. "Ok, well, I guess I am."

I shook my head and turned away, feeling quite righteous. "I won't do it."

Now it was Bumlets' turn to look annoyed. 

"Come on, now. You know I'd be better to run the House. I'll give you a discount for board… and more. I do reward my friends."

"And Pie is **my** friend," I reminded him.

"Pie guards himself so closely… it would take a friend to… get through to him." Bumlets swiped a hand past my vision as he talked and I caught the flash of coin and turned my eyes hungrily upon it. He pocketed the money and studied me closely. "Who says crime doesn't pay?" He said softly.

"Boy - excuse me, boy?"

A haughty voice from behind snapped me back to reality. I sold another paper and stayed with my back towards Bumlets - and temptation. A few moments later I heard him leave and breathed a sigh of relief.

Great. This gave me another thing to talk to Pie about, and I had a feeling that Bumlets would be keeping a close watch on me from now on.

Pie wasn't around when I got back to the Lodging House, but Swifty was, playing cards with a smug smile. I went to him immediately. 

"Where's Pie? I really need to talk to him."

He shrugged and met my eyes over his cards. "How should I know?"

"Who else would know?" I ignored the glares from the game's other participants. 

"He's on a date," Racetrack said. "Swifty's in charge, he's collecting board."

"Yeah, pay up." Swifty chuckled and held out a hand. My eyes narrowed by I dropped my dues into his waiting palm. His smile widened and he turned back to the game with a wink in my direction. My stomach churned… I already knew the answer, but asked anyway.

"Who's he seeing?"

No one said anything. I turned away to walk to my bunk and heard clinking sounds as my money joined Swifty's bet.

I was half asleep by the time pie returned, conscious enough to hear the scuffle downstairs but unable to control enough of my limbs to move out of bed. I knew nothing until the next morning, when Pie woke me up, himself still cheery among many weary faces. He said that if I came back at lunch he'd explain. 

The only noise to accompany our usually rowdy start to the day was Bumlets' yell as Jake set his broken nose back in place. Without realizing it, we had all become doubly cautious. I kicked myself for believing that everything would have died down once Pie took his position, and kept as far away from Bumlets as I possibly could. On the way out of the door I noticed that the right wall's mirror was broken, nearly shattered, its pieces still littering the rough wooden floor. It crunched beneath my feet. And Swifty was nowhere to be seen.

"What are you going to do?"

I looked at my nails. Most of them were almost black with grime. Disgusting. "What, now? Tomorrow? What are you talking about?" I was walking away from the Distribution Offices with Specs and Dutchy, and it was Dutchy who had ventured the question.

"No, I mean… like… well, after you're done being a newsie and all. In a few years."

I sighed. "Years? Maybe for you guys, but I'll be lucky to get away with months. Look at me. I shouldn't be doing this anymore."

"As long as you can sell, you sell," Specs quoted. I remembered Jack saying this, awhile ago. Crutchy had broken his good leg, and had no idea what he would do, depressed about being cooped up in the Lodging House with no work. So Jack had set him up on a street corner with that advice and one hundred papers. Down with two bad legs and looking even more hopeless than usual, Crutchy had sold them all. Later that night he was killed before someone could help him back to the Lodging House.

"I don't think I'll be able to for much longer, I'm scraping by as we speak," I said. "I should be doing something else, something worthwhile, but this… this is all I know."

We walked in silence.

"I always wanted to be a lawyer," Dutchy said wistfully. We laughed at that, at the sheer impossibility of it. 

"A doctor," Specs said with a grin. It was my turn… but I had nothing.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know."

I decided to sell alone that day.

"Alright, let's hear it," I said, slamming the Lodging House's office door behind me. Pie and Swifty looked up from their conversation, startled. Swifty raised an eyebrow.

"Shit… forgot you were coming by, Snoddy," Pie flushed. "Hold on a minute, will you?"

"Sure," I said. My feet seemed to be rooted in place.

"Snoddy?" Swifty was still looking at me.

"Yeah?"

"Leave."

"I… uh… right," I said, and left quietly. I sat on the stairs with a sigh and recounted the morning's profit, which was slim. I had sold most of my papers back again. I had to get out of this trap, I was too old.

Swifty came out and made for the door, then stopped, hesitated, and turned back to face me.

"Tonight," he said. "You should come out with us tonight."

I stood. "Who's 'us?'"

"Me, Pie, my girl and… I think he's bringing Jacklyn." He grinned and left before I could even open my mouth.

"Any day now, Snoddy," Pie called from the office.

I had to get out of this trap.

-

****

Author's Note: Oh thank GOD all of my transcribing is done! I'm not a big fan of reading my own handwriting, and it seems to have been especially bad during July. From here on out everything is completely new and was probably written during my geometry, English, health, and physics classes. The last page or so of this was! Reviewers, I love you, keep doing what you do best and click that friendly little button.

****

I love you guys "THIS" much!  
Falco: No _way _is that wrong! Woo. -fans self- I'm quite fond of him myself. 'Rake' is a sort of slang term. I'll explain it to you later.  
**Shade: **Wickedness in general IS sexy though! Yum. -makes more soup for sick!shade-  
**Crunch: **Yay! And I love you. And, another 'yay!' I was hoping I wasn't crazy with that take on it (the melodramatic-but-not piece).  
**ershey: **That's the purpose! It's been much fun to write characters so differently. And Mr. Jack here is full of surprises.  
**Thistle: **Thank you! Actually, I think Jack's a good guy in the movie, and I LOVE Christian Bale, but in all my newish I've been writing Jack off as sort of a bastard… and truly, I'm not too sure why. Most people don't write him like that, but I enjoy it.   
**Raeghann: **Glad you like it. -beams- I'm not sure Swifty is as much 'human' as 'monster' here though.  
**Tabloid: **We can't help it, somehow he's so lovable! Ahh! He's manipulating us all!  
**Omni: **That sounds awesome. I can always go for more crazy Omni reviews.   
**Gothitica: **Yes, very happy. -chuckles- Pie says woo! Haha, 'precious,' never thought I'd hear that and 'evil Swifty' in the same sentence! Hee hee. Yeah, poor Snoddy. -pets-  
**B: **They're all a little scary, yes. Not the kind of friend's you'd really want to have. Hope you have more spare time at work to read more. -grin-


	4. Welcome to the Madhouse

****

Keeping it Safe

__

Chapter Four: Welcome to the Madhouse

"You have to clean up that glass out there… the stuff from the mirror," I told Pie, who sat comfortably in Kloppman's old chair. "It's going to hurt someone."

"Yeah, I'll sweep it out later. But that's not why you're here. Last night."

"Last night," I repeated. "Something happened, I could hear it - unless I was dreaming." I studied his face closely. 

"You weren't dreaming, no. I came in late last night-"

"Yeah, I know." I remembered Jacklyn. "Actually, about that-"

"No, never mind that. Anyway, it was my fault. I wasn't really on my guard. Someone - Bumlets - jumped me at the door." 

"If Bumlets jumped you, then why is he worn down and you're hear without a scratch?" I frowned at Pie, then sat back. "Oh. Swifty." 

"Yeah, Swifty." 

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I could hear the steady ticking from Kloppman's old wall clock and resisted the sudden urge to get up and smash it to bits. Pie shifted in his chair and began to write something down. How could Swifty set him up and save his skin in the same night? Nothing made sense anymore.

"Tell me about her," I said finally. "Your mystery girl." 

"What?" Pie looked up, laughing an embarrassing laugh. "Mystery girl? What are you talking about?"

"Your Jacklyn," I persisted. "How is she? Come on, now!" I slid a smile onto my face and hoped my eyes didn't look too worried. A playful punch to the arm and suggestively raised eyebrows on my part got him talking. 

"She's perfect," he said seriously. "I mean it." 

"You see her a lot?"

"Yeah. Now go away."

"What?! No way! Keep going. What's she look like?" Maybe I was wrong. My assumptions, my worries, suspicions, everything - Jacklyn was a fairly common name, right?

"Jacklyn? Aw, gee… she's… well, she's got this black hair, long and straight. Green eyes. Slight thing, really, almost like I could break her in half."

I laughed good naturedly, remembering when I had thought the same thing. My head started to hurt. Pie had a dreamy look on his face, and I struggled with the thought that I might be the one to take that away. 

"Sounds nice," I said softly. Pie caught my eye. 

"You'll find her," he said. "You know. 'Her.'" He smiled. "And I can only hope you'll feel the same way that I do about her."

It was too much, I stood up. "Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, and backed toward the door. "Afternoon edition, I'll see you tonight."

He looked slightly worried, but shrugged. "See ya." 

I closed the door and swore violently. Outside it started to snow.

I made a lethal mistake that night, forgetting one of winter's trademarks… an early nightfall. I lingered too long at a bar with Jake and refused accompaniment home. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts as I walked so I could hopefully figure everything out by the time I arrived back at the Lodging House. Unfortunately, this mindset was playing right into their hands.

They didn't even have to take the trouble to drag me into some alleyway, it was cold and dark and nobody was out on the streets, not even the much traveled avenue that I was trudging down. Something hard hit the back of my knees and sent me crashing to the cobblestones, and before I could roll over to get up, Bumlets planted his knees on my chest and pinned me down. 

I looked up into hate filled Spanish eyes and cringed. From the corner of my eye I saw Snitch watching carefully. He carried a bat.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I think we already discussed that," Bumlets said. "But here's a problem. I haven't gotten what I want. In fact, all I'm gotten is a DAMN," he accented this word with a punch to my face. "BROKEN," another, my jaw. "NOSE!" He raised his hand to strike again but with a surge of strength I didn't know I had I forced myself into a sort of a roll, causing him to topple to the ground. I stood up quickly and wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, it came away decorated with a smear of blood. Bumlets stood as well and Snitch took a step closer. I tried my best to ignore him.

"Why'd you do it, Pie?" Bumlets asked, and my mode switched from 'wary' to 'confused.'

"What? Do what?" I said, speaking so quickly that my words all blended together.

"You refused my offer," Bumlets said. "Sure. But that doesn't give you the right to spill to Swifty!" If it was possible, he seemed to be getting himself even more angry. 

"I haven't talked to Swifty!" I said, and it was the truth. "Or Pie! I never mentioned anything!" Snitch and his bat were beginning to make me nervous, and my voice panicked. 

Bumlets didn't buy it, and lurched forward. I stumbled back in surprise and was once again taken down by Bumlets, who followed up with a quick succession of punches.

I closed my mouth and gave up protesting, Bumlets had gone mad and there was no way he would listen anymore. Not to something he didn't want to hear.

"Give me this," I heard him order Snitch and a second later there was a terrific crash as he brought the bat down and smashed it inches from my head. The loose end skittered away and hit a trashcan, and I could feel myself shaking visibly. 

Bumlets buried his boot in my ribcage and I curled up with a groan.

"Next time, I don't plan on missing," he said, and he and Snitch disappeared. For a few minutes I was alone with my own labored breathing, then the sounds of mindless chatter and laughter drifted my way, and a few people came around the block. They reached me and I was pulled up roughly. I mumbled something incoherent.

"Holy Mary," an amused voice said. "Mother of God." Of course. Swifty, how convenient. 

"Lemme go," I grumbled.

"Shit!" Pie-eater's joined Swifty and took one arm so I was slung between the two. I noticed they were looking nice, as well as their smartly dressed female companions.

"I can walk!" I said, and yanked my hands from their grasp. A nearby stoop looked inviting, so I stumbled over and sat on it with my head in my hands. Pie sat silently beside me.

"Who did it?" He asked quietly. I could hear Swifty begin to engage the ladies in conversation once more.

"Can't tell," I said, and my voice was muffled. "If I do I'll have a bat buried in my brain come morning."

Pie sighed. "Jack was at the Lodging House when we left, with Mush too," he said. "So why did Bumlets come after you?"

"Good question."

"You seriously don't know?"

"He thought -- thinks -- that I told you something that I shouldn't have. Well, I should have, but in his view I shouldn't have, and… anyway, I didn't, see. Never got the chance."

Pie let me babble on before he spoke next. "Well? May as well tell me now."

"Nothing big, you must already know. He tried to buy me into betraying you is all. He thinks I tipped off you or Swifty so that his attack lat night wasn't a surprise. But I never talked to Swifty about it, so… wait… how _did_ Swifty know?"

"I see," Pie said, and ignored my last question. Maybe he just didn't hear me, but either way, he fell completely silent. I lifted my head up, but he was just staring out into space, thoughtful. 

"Want to meet Jacklyn?" He asked suddenly. 

I blinked. "Uh… sure?"

"Great! Come on." We got up and rejoined Swifty.

If Jacklyn -- and it was her -- recognized me, she never showed it. She looked beautiful, but that wasn't what worried me… no, it was the expression of pure awe and love that Pie-eater regarded her with. He had fallen. Hard. I stood next to Swifty and looked her in the eyes as she looked up shyly. Pie placed a gentle arm around her waist and nodded to me.

"Jacklyn, we call this bum Snoddy… Snoddy, Jacklyn," he said with a smile.

I bowed, kissed her hand, and she giggled. Pie was absolutely beaming.

"And this is my girl Liz," Swifty said, and a bored looking brunette gave me a quick -- false -- smile of her own.

"Well kids, have fun," I said, and began to walk away. "I'm going to get me some sleep."

"Sure you want to do that?" Swifty asked. I stopped. 

"What?" My head hurt.

"We're gone for the night, man. And the only people in the Lodging House right now are the ones looking to fix you good." He had been slowly approaching me as he spoke and now the sound of his hushed voice was bare inches from my ear. "I don't care how jealous you may be. It makes sense to stay with us." My eyes widened. Is that that he thought? Hell, was that what _Pie_ thought? That I was jealous?! I spun to face him.

"Jealous?!" I sputtered. "Try concerned for a friend! Did you even - does she - he - does he _know?!_"

Swifty frowned. "Know what?" I wasn't sure if his confusion was genuine or not until he spoke again after studying my face. "Oh. Ohh," he chucked. "That. Nah, he doesn't know. Why should he? The boy's happy, she's happy-"

"Oh, I'm sure she's happy with what you must be paying her."

Swifty laughed again but his eyes had turned cold. "Don't insult me again unless you want a knife in your skull," he said between chuckles. I shivered.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Let it go, Snoddy." He wasn't even pretending to laugh now. "And keep it away from Pie. Has has enough to worry about."

I couldn't talk, my anger had built up so much. But there was nothing I could do. I turned and walked away.

Swifty was laughing.

My night alone in the Lodging House was surprisingly uneventful. I paid Jack a little extra to let me in, cleaned myself up and went to bed, no questions asked. I avoided Bumlets, and he me. No one bothered me, hell, even talked to me. I woke up to the pouring rain. What an omen it would turn out to be.

-

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Author's Note: Well, that's a short chapter, but I hope you kids enjoyed it anyway. Goodness me, I love evil Swifty so much. Only one more week of school, guys! Keep reading, keep reviewing, thanks! WOO!

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Love to reviewers!  
Omni: Ohh, we read To Kill A Mockingbird in the beginning of the year, so I feel your essay writing stress. I can definitely see Pie as Atticus, however, so you aren't all that crazy. And… uh… we'll just leave the rest of the review to speak for itself.  
**BrokenShells: **Thank you very much! I'm really glad you like it. 'Brilliant' is a fandamntastic word anyway.  
**B: **Here's a short chapter for you. Hee hee. Snoddy IS lickable though. But not as much as evil Swifty. Yum. Yeah, Pie definitely has the tendency to be a bit creepy…  
**ershey: **Woo! Yeah, I think I need to use Race more in this story. Although, he does/will come into play more later on, promise. Gotta love leader!Pie. **  
Falco: **Nah, it's no gruesome or anything, and I know what it means it just could possibly take awhile to explain. Ah, the dream… Actually, when I was re-reading this story before writing the third chapter (because up until the third chapter it had all been handwritten months before) I came to the dream part and was reading it and had FORGOTTEN that it was a dream and I was panicking because I had no idea what was going on. Then… yeah, I just felt really stupid. Sigh.  
**Thistle: **I WAS on a good updating spree, then I had to sit down and do some actual writing (during geometry class, no less). Oh well, here's another chapter anyway, but no Jack. I like bastard Jack too! He's so much fun to harass. You have many questions, none of which I will answer because that would ruin it all. But I'm glad you guys like Race. I do too.  
**Shade: **Hmm, you can borrow him for a night or two. But really, what everything comes down to this is: the Turk, or evil Swifty? Nah, I wouldn't make you choose (because I couldn't either). Thanks!  



	5. What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?

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Keeping it Safe_  
Chapter Five: What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?_

I woke to silence. There was not a sound throughout the bunkroom, but that was probably because there was not a soul throughout the place either. I slid to the floor with a groan and a hand to my aching head, where a stabbing pain was developing behind my eyes. I took a deep breath and moved my other hand to my chest.

"I think I broke a rib," I said.

"Maybe two," the doorway answered. Pie-eater stepped forth. "You alright? I regret leaving you alone, now."

"I'm fine," I sighed. "And don't regret it. No one bothered me when I got here… though it would've been nice if you'd bothered me this morning. How late is it, and why didn't anyone else wake me up?"

Pie shrugged. "I told them not to. You were tired, hurt. You could use a day off."

"I don't want one. I thought it would be obvious that I, like most newsies, need money."

"It's about nine now, by the way." Pie liked to ignore me. He was good at it, too.

I grumbled something unintelligible and moved into the washroom, where a sink full of invitingly cold water called to me. I stuck my whole head in, wincing again as I bent over. I straightened and let the water droplets run down my shirt, back and front, and blinked. My headache persisted. Another figure had joined Pie where he now stood, leaning against the washroom door, and I began to feel nauseous. Maybe Bumlets had done more damage to me than I had thought. Maybe…

"Hey, Jacklyn," I said.

"Morning, sunshine," and she giggled. Pie grinned.

"Laugh at my pain," I muttered and brushed past them back to my bunk. "Leave me in peace!" I cried. "And don't expect me to pay tonight's lodging fees either."

Pie just laughed, and left with his girl close in tow. I heard them both snickering as they went downstairs and rolled over. It promised to be a strange day, but just then all I wanted to do was sleep.

+

Racetrack came in whistling an unfamiliar tune. 

"Hey, sunshine," he said from the right side of my bunk. The pet name was beginning to get tiring.

"And how's my favorite rain cloud?" I said, my eyes still closed. 

"He's fine. The afternoon edition will be out in about ten minutes, if you want to get out of bed and do some real work."

"How did Pie let you up?" I asked. My eyelids hadn't moved.

"Eh, he's gone. I think. Either way, Snitch picked the lock. That's not the point, we should…"

Race continued to ramble on but the sound of my pounding heart seemed to tune out his words. Snitch? This made me open my eyes. Race was alone.

"You're quite friendly today," I said. I sat up. 

"It's been a good morning. Let's go, I'm supposed to get you up, and I want to get some papes too, so don't be late."

"Who sent you?"

But he was already out the door. My eyes stung from the smoke trail that was left behind by a familiar smelling cigar, almost as if he had vanished with a 'poof' like in the stories I remembered only vaguely. 

I slid into the washroom for the second time that day, looking to inspect my bruises before venturing outside. I had just turned on the water when a faint scratching noise came from the behind me, I glanced up into the mirror and saw Snitch's reflection next to my own. A startled yelp escaped from my mouth, but I didn't turn. Snitch remained almost motionless, staring at the mirror with no readable expression on his face. An anxious feeling wormed its way from my head through my limbs, but I didn't turn around. 

"Still raining?" I asked with a calmness that surprised me. He inclined his head slightly. "Great," I sighed, and then left the washroom without a look back. I could hear no hint of him moving as I made for the bunkroom door, but that's not to say he didn't follow. Snitch is a sneaky one. 

I trooped downstairs and noticed Pie, alone, reading something in his office. I stuck my head in.

"Hey, I'm out."

He looked up glumly. "Hey. Good luck, then."

"Where's Jacklyn?" 

"She had to go work. Said she should be there on a dark day like this." He shrugged. "I dunno."

"Alright. Have fun with whatever you're doing. I'll try to stay out of trouble."

He didn't respond, so I left without another word. I hunched my shoulders against the sudden onslaught of rain and walked slowly along the slick cobblestones. Selling was the last thing on my mind, but I didn't want to be alone. I hurried along to the Distribution Center in time to join what would become of the middle of the line. I felt safe there, with Specs humming to himself in front of me and Itey laughing despite the rain behind, shielding his mess of curly hair with a thin newspaper. Itey was a cunning one, if he bought a stack of papers when the headlines were good, he would create two papers from one, adding a section here taking a section there. If he was quick enough in selling them and disappearing, he might earn a few extra pennies - if not, he came back to the Lodging House with a silly grin to sport a few broken teeth. But it wasn't this thought which made me turn to give him a second glance. Itey was almost always with Snitch.

"Where's your pal?" I asked when he caught my gaze. 

"Hmm?"

"Snitch. Where's he been?"

Itey frowned. "You know, that's a good question," he said, and shrugged. "He went off the other night, and, sayin' the truth, I haven't seen him around much since." He must have interpreted my look for one of concern, because his next sentence seemed out of place. "Shouldn't worry about it. Snitch'n take care of himself." 

I turned away and closed the gap that had widened between Specs and me. The rain seemed to be letting up, but I knew it was just my imagination. I bought my papers and tucked them under my outer shirt like those before me and clambered down the stairs and out the gate, moving quickly in hopes of grabbing a spot under an awning of a general store or market. Anything to shake the cold from my head and heart.

-

It's hard to say if I was surprised or just annoyed when I bumped into Swifty on Broadway street. He himself looked relieved to see me. 

"Crazy kid, why can't you have a regular selling spot like everyone else?" He grumbled in way of greeting. I tipped my hat and offered him a paper. "No thanks. Listen, when's the last time you saw Pie?"

"He was in this morning, making fun of me."

Swifty's face was emotionless but his eyes moved quickly. "His girl?"

"She was with him, yeah, but…" I hesitated, remembering earlier. Pie-eater's sad face. _She had to work. _And now Swifty, with his odd manner and desperate-toned questions. "Yeah," I finished. "She was with him." 

Swifty sighed. "Listen, when you go back - are you going back soon?"

I nodded, and it was true. Anything to get out of this weather. 

"Ok, well, uhm… ok, make sure he sticks with her, ok? I think she may be in danger tonight. It'd be good if he was around."

"Alright," I said, frowning inwardly. Things were just too weird. 

"Great," Swifty said. He left immediately, and as I turned to answer someone's request I caught a flash of familiar wet black hair as Bumlets fell in stride beside him.

Things were just too weird.

-

"Hey, Pie. Jacklyn still gone?"

"Yep." Pie-eater licked a battered looking envelope and added it to a heap on his desk. "She'll probably be back tonight. Why?" 

"Dunno. Had a strange conversation with Swifty…" I stopped and took in Pie's suddenly alert gaze. "Anyway, I think you should stick around here tonight."

He didn't pressure me. "Why's that? Oh, here, want an apple?"

I accepted the food. "Thanks. And… well…"

"I'm here most nights," he continued. "I have to be."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you've been with Jacklyn lately. Which is great, I mean," I added quickly. "But tonight. Stay here. Play some poker."

"I'm horrible at poker."

"Ok, watch some poker. Just stick around. Please."

Pie-eater pushed his chair away from the desk. "Is that what Swifty talked to you about?"

His was a hard face to lie to.

"Yes. And no. I mean… no." I stopped with a sigh. Pie-eater stood up and grabbed a stray chair from the edge of the room.

"I feel old saying this, but… sit down." I did. "Now, tell me what's happening," and he sat on the edge of his desk. 

Still I hesitated. By not telling him the truth about Jacklyn, I was letting him be fooled. But if I told, it would crush him… if he even agreed to believe it. And he thought Swifty was loyal to him… right? Hell, I did. I had. Until I had seen him walk calmly away with a certain Hispanic boy whom he was supposed to hate. 

"I think Swifty wanted you gone tonight, for whatever reason," I said. "He told me that if I saw you I should tell you to hang around with Jacklyn… he didn't know she had already left. So there, I've said it, I said what he wanted me to. Stay with Jacklyn. But now, again, I'll say what I think. I think you should stay here… and away from her."

Pie played with an apple in his hands, polishing it, inspecting it, polishing, inspecting. When he was satisfied he put it out of easy reach and met my eyes. 

"I guess I still don't understand why you want me to stay. I'll stay, if it's that big of a deal, but mainly because I now own this house and I should be staying. Not just because you're begging me to."

I stood up. "Well, thanks… is Jacklyn still going to come back?"

"This is the part I'll do for you," Pie said with a wry smile. "I'll keep her away, for tonight at least. Are you just going to be here until everyone else gets back? Can you look after things?"

I faltered. "Uh, yeah, why?"

"Well, I need to tell Jacklyn to make her own plans, of course. Don't worry about it, I've been looking for an excuse to give her these flowers." He smiled and waved my gaze to a bouquet of a flower I couldn't identify. Apparently they had been there the whole time. Nobody ever called _me_ observant. 

The weight which I thought was being taken off my shoulders crashed back down. "Wait -- where does she work again?" I managed.

"Some factory… I got an address. Not from her, mind you, she'd probably be too embarrassed to tell me. But I know this guy who's seen her go someplace on her lunch break…" His sentence continued to cheerily enter one ear and go out the other as I stared. No. No way. Jacklyn couldn't have a regular day job, it didn't fit in with anything I had believed. "…here, I have it written down. Recognize the place?" 

I glanced at it numbly and shook my head. "Nope." 

"Well, anyway, if I hurry I'll make one of her breaks. See you tonight." He grabbed the flowers, his coat and hat, and was gone. I took a second, closer look at the scrap of paper holding the address, wondering if it was one of the small shops or bakeries that I sometimes saw young women at, breaking during a hard day's work. It was a restaurant alright, judging from the name scribbled at the top. "Sweeney's." I couldn't place the name, though it stirred something in the back of my mind. Something dark.

The door opened and I heard the scratch of pen on paper as the first of the boys began to return and sign in. I meandered to the office doorway, still clutching the paper. It was Mush. He looked up and nodded almost amiably, so I took a few more steps forward and smoothed the paper out in front of him.

"Recognize this?" I asked. 

Mush paused, then frowned and looked at me. "Yeah… yeah, of course I do. You don't?"

Now I was at a loss. "No… no, I don't," I admitted. "It's so familiar, but…"

"Maybe you didn't see the sign," Mush said, and shifted his weight uncomfortably. "That's Swifty's hideout. He took us there to ditch Kloppy… unless you don't remember that either." 

The weight ground down again. "Yeah," I said softly. "Yeah… thanks." Mush disappeared upstairs and a bigger group of kids, younger, entered and pushed around me to reach the book. I took the paper back and returned to Pie's office, staring at it. 

_Respectable day job… and you believed it,_ I berated myself. _Fool. Always looking on the bright side. _I floundered where I stood, unable to think of a course of action. But something had to be done, or else Pie-eater was in for a harsh awakening. 

And I had a feeling that I wasn't going to get any help from Swifty.

-

With the address to aid me, I quickly found my way back to Swifty's hotspot. I had only ever been there in the pitch dark, cold and lost, and I found that the sight of the small door in the rainy dusk was only a little less bleak. High above the actual door I could barely make out a faded sign that read something along the lines of "McSwe n 's." I blinked the raindrops from my eyes and stepped in. 

The atmosphere was bright and lively and none of the activity even took a breath as I closed the door behind me. A robust looking woman greeted me at the door and tried to direct me to an empty seat but I shook her off my hand and instead moved closer to talk in her ear. She heard out my request, smiled coyly, and pointed to the same staircase I had ventured up before. 

"Second door on the left," she said over the din. I nodded my thanks and moved quickly. There was a queasy feeling developing in my stomach and the silence that reigned on the second floor did nothing to help it. My steps towards the barely open door were slow and deliberate, my breathing shallow. I heard a stifled sob and broke into a sprint, pounding away the last few yards and slamming the door against the wall as I burst into the room.

Disaster met my eyes. 

On one side of the room was a rickety bed, sitting on which was Jacklyn, her knees drawn up to her chin, a bunched sheet covering her body and tears streaming down her face. Next to her sat a middle aged man in an equally indecent state, terrified and white with shock. My feet were rooted to the floorboards, my eyes continued to rove. Swifty, in the middle of the room, blood covering his pale hands. His pale hands, shaking slightly. And Pie-eater, in a still heap next to Swifty, an expression of surprise and dismay frozen on his face. A knife hilt deep in his left breast. 

Swifty's eyes found mine and his words were bitterly mocking.

"Guess he… died of a broken heart."

+

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Author's Note: Heh heh. Whoops?

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My love for reviews cannot be expressed with words!  
Special "thanks" to Mondie for going through and reading everything, as can be noted from her old-time run-on reviews. Mondie! I'm sorry I made you angry. Please don't boycott the story. I know you aren't mad at me anymore, but I have a feeling all that has probably changed again after reading this chapter. I LOVE YOU!  
**Omni: **-does the Omni dance- Well, thanks for trying. It's sort of a bad story to try to happy!review.  
**Frog: **Ok, so maybe it's POSSIBLY that Evil Swifty will give someone nightmares, but hey. He's cool. And, uhm, really, really evil. I hope I haven't lost my Evil Swifty fans after this chapter. -gulp-  
**Thistle: **No and yes. Snoddy doesn't want the girl. I realized I haven't been making this as clear as possible… Snoddy doesn't want the girl, he wants Pie away from the girl. But, of course, we are supposed to feel bad for Snoddy, poor kid, only same one in the bunch.  
**Raeghann: **Woo! Glad you're enjoying it. As far as realism goes, who knows? It's not the most realistic thing, but probably a little more so than a girl falling in love with half a dozen shady orphans and living with them, etc. At least this is more fun to read. In a way. -beginning to catch the JP rambling disease-  
**B: **Ahaha, fantastic reaction there. Haha, yes, we shall create… bum bum bum… Evil Swifty Lovers Anonymous! …or maybe we're all just disturbed.  
**Pyromaniacal Llama: **Glad you stumbled upon it, hopefully you remembered it to see this… oi, the month plus between updates was NOT planned. Switching portrayals and main roles is my favorite thing to do, oh friendly feathered one! It's great fun.  
**Falco Conlon: **I do regret giving everything away to you. But only sort of. AHH I LOVE RUIN! -tackles- Haven't written him in awhile. Wait, I'm lying, I actually started to rewrite (completely… not just edit) ORD the other day. It was fun. And Swifty is SO different in NHS than here, yikes… scary. And it's my Ireland!  
**Cards: **Exactly, that's the one thing that bugs me but I wrote anyway… the motivation? Pretty melodramatic/petty/stupid… but… I needed something to drive them all at each other's throats, and this was pretty much the first thing I thought of. It doesn't seem to be going too badly.


	6. Regroup

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Keeping it Safe_  
Chapter Six: Regroup_

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"Too much happens in a day. Not enough."

I bolted. Inside I was screaming, outside crying, shaking, stumbling down the stairs a clattering mess. I flew past the other patrons, oblivious to their displeasure and snide remarks. Outside it was still pouring and I slipped on the slick cobblestones and landed hand on my elbows. I scrambled to get up and took off again, adrenaline pumping with the fear of someone chasing me, Swifty, Bumlets, Snitch… Pie's ghost. But my steps echoed along in the rain and after a few blocks I slowed to a painful walk, wheezing… my ribs were still sore from my 'talk' with Bumlets and I had twisted an ankle during my fall outside McSweeney's.

I made my way back to the Lodging House, the last place I wanted to go and the only place I had. I didn't have any idea what would greet me there, but it was sure to be better than what I had left.

A sudden thought slowed my stride. Swifty. This is the first place he'd look. But what reason would Swifty have to bring me harm? Ok, I had been close to Pie. But he had been closer. I decided to chance it - my mind was too cold to think of any other option. I made out the familiar sign in the rain and let myself in, though the streets were dark and deserted it was still on the early side of the night, and I probably wouldn't be the last to enter.

The bottom floor was empty, or so I thought as I signed my name in carefully practiced letters, but the creak of a chair argued otherwise. Bumlets appeared in the doorway to the house's office and leaned casually against the frame. He inspected his nails, silent, but a degree of tension flooded into the room that made it hard for me to breathe. Bumlets seemed content in the quiet, gazing at me through half lidded eyes. I watched all this from the corner of my vision, finished signing in and made for the stairs, moving slowly. I got to the top and glanced back down, but there was nothing.

"Snoddy. There you are," Racetrack ushered me into the bunkroom. "I was wondering when you'd get back." His gaze flickered to the shadows near the door, almost too quick for me to catch. I looked over on my own accord, and there was Snitch, the ever watchful eye.

"Come on," Race said loudly. "Join us for the next hand of poker." I followed him over wordlessly. Something was up.

My seat was between Jake and Specs, with Dutchy on Specs' other side. Race was across from me and Skittery and Blink sat on either side of him. I blinked.

"Skittery?!"

Skittery looked up from his hand and nodded a greeting.

"I thought you went to Jersey for good."

"I'm back," he said dryly. "It… didn't work out so well. Sounds like a missed a lot."

I glanced at my hand but didn't really see the cards. Even more surprising to see at the table was Blink - Blink without Jack. He looked a little nervous but not unhappy. I tried to study him without being obvious, tried to see what he was doing here. I knew the company I was in, the quiet ones, like me, who saw all and said little. The poker game was a cover up, almost like a disguise. With Bumlets in charge - if it truly was that way - everyone would have to keep quiet and act normal.

I picked up my cards again. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Specs muttered from behind his hand. "Almost disappointing, really."

Dutchy flicked a few pennies onto the table. Race looked shocked.

"This is a gentleman's game!" He cried. "Make a gentleman's bet!"

"You're right," Dutchy said coolly, and removed a penny from his wager. Race chuckled.

"Bumlets didn't even enter the 'House until he knew you two - you and Pie - where gone," he said in a low voice. "I know. I was right behind him."

"He watched you until you had turned down third," Skittery agreed, looking bored. "Smug little bastard."

I kept my eyes down. All I could think about was Pie, and the expression on his face. I was having a hard time keeping it together. I could feel Skittery's eyes on me, and cleared my throat uncomfortably.

"Call," he said in response to someone else's prodding, then, "where _did_ you go, Snoddy?" I knew it would come up… and Skittery was the only one bold enough - ignorant enough - to say it. All the others knew everything that had been happening and knew not to bug me about it, but Skittery had an excuse. I could see he enjoyed exercising that power. I waited until Specs had folded to speak.

"Call," I said, and dropped in my money. "I went to follow Pie, to bring him back."

"Raise… two… where?" Jake was speaking now.

I leaned back in my chair and stretched, looking nonchalantly over to the door where Snitch still resided, himself still surveying the room lazily. "McSweeney's," I murmured finally, and only Race showed any sign of recognition, he cringed.

"Where's he now?" Race asked. "Raise, four."

"McSweeney's," I repeated, and hoped Snitch's ears weren't as good as his eyes. Race sucked his breath in through his teeth. Blink's 'call' was barely audible, even at the silence of our table. Elsewhere the din was increasing as the last stragglers came in for the night… Jack among them.

"Damn," Skittery drawled, his face slowly lighting up into an almost hopeful expression. He loved to make fun of Jack more than anything. Skittery stood up and moved away still carrying his cards.

"Kid has the attention span of a housefly," Race grumbled. I noticed that Blink was looking especially uncomfortable. Race leaned in over the table. "Tell me what happened," he said urgently. My face was still full of questions. He sighed. "Yes, Bumlets is in control, no, he didn't do it alone. Now, what about Pie?"

I wanted to forget Pie. "What about Swifty!?" I demanded, a little louder than I meant to.

Race looked confused. "What about him?" He sat back in his chair, looking at my warily. Again I lowered my eyes to my cards, which by then I had memorized several times over.

"Don't make him talk if he don't want to," Jake said. "What does it matter anyway, now?"

"Call," Race said.

I twisted around in my chair to search for Snitch again, and couldn't find him. "I don't feel comfortable talking in here," I said. "It's not safe. I know it."

"It's perfectly safe!" A strangely cheery voice entered our circle and Snitch put me into a 'friendly headlock' that was a little tighter than necessary. I swallowed with a bit of effort.

"Lemme go."

Snitch released me with another 'playful' push that set my chair on two legs and me almost to the floor. Jack then appeared and took Skittery's empty seat. No one was paying attention to the game anymore, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Race carefully gathering the coins into his palms. Jack and Snitch had a sort of stare down before Snitch turned away, muttering something about locking up.

"Hello, boy," Jack said, looking only slightly less than sober.

Echoes of 'hello' drifted back towards him. Specs and Dutchy found a reason to leave and did so, blushing as they bumped into each other in their haste to get away. I sighed and relinquished my cards.

"How ya doing, Jack?" I said and tried to be interested in the answer. Jack loved an audience.

"Mad as a fox!" Skittery said gleefully. He took Dutchy's seat with a grin. "Drunk as a fish."

Jack snorted and threw a comradely arm around Skittery's shoulder… it only took him three tries.

"Noo," he said. I exchanged an exasperated glance with Race, who looked fit to kill. Race finished clearing away the table's money and cleared his throat.

"So, Jack," he said. "What do ya think about Bumlets being in charge round these parts?"

Jack was giggling, but stopped at Race's words. "What?"

"Bumlets," I said. "He's in charge now."

"Hell," Jack said, and stood up. I cast another, slightly panicked glance towards Race, but he just shrugged. Skittery was having a grand old time, and chuckled before standing up himself.

"Jacky!" Skittery exclaimed. "Lemme help ya. Where you going?"

Jack rubbed at his eyes. "There," he said, and motioned vaguely to the floor. After a pause he pointed towards the door to the stair. "No. _There_."

I knew what that meant, and resisted standing up myself, instead staying hunched over in my chair. I could tell from the sudden decrease in noise and Jack's loud, slurred curses that Bumlets had finally decided to grace us with his presence.

"Shit," Race muttered, and disappeared to the back of the bunkroom. I wanted to do the same but remained glued to my chair by some unknown force. I turned my head.

Bumlets shut the door behind him and looked around slowly, a smirk growing on his lips.

"I hope I'm not going to have any trouble here," he said as his eyes landed on me, Jake, Skittery, and the other, older inhabitants. "Looks like some of you may be getting a little long in the tooth for this business."

My eyes narrowed. Of course. Get rid of the ones who could do something, the ones who could hurt you.

"Fucking greaser… I'll give ya… trouble," Jack said. I winced. Skittery almost giggled. Bumlets caught sight of Jack and glowered. Snitch, who was standing at his right, had a sort of amused sneer on his face. Jack stumbled forward and steadied himself on another boy's shoulder. "Let's go," he said to Bumlets. "Here… go… let's now. Uhm… me and you. Right."

I stood up then. Jack may have usually been the better fighter, but he was drunk, and Bumlets, who could hold his own, never touched alcohol. While Jack smiled around at the crowd that had begun to develop, Bumlets scowled and pushed up his sleeves.

"Fine," Bumlets spat. "I'd love to embarrass you one last time."

Jack cackled, then ducked as Bumlets' first punch was thrown. He grabbed onto Bumlets' wrist but caught Bumlets' other hand in the jaw before he was able to do anything. Jack let go, backed away, and stood straighter with a light in his eyes.

"Whoooo!" He cried. Yeah, Jack was drunk alright. But not nearly as badly as he had made us believe. Bumlets lost a bit of his shine, no longer was he so positive.

They circled each other, Jack only occasionally falling into a misstep, Bumlets almost shaking with concentration. I made my way to the group and pushed to the front of the circle, absorbing in the excitement that was in the air. Race, who I thought had been hiding, was up to his usual mischief and reputation, wandering around and taking bets from the younger kids and older suckers.

Bumlets made his move so quickly I almost missed it. The next time Jack stumbled over himself Bumlets lunged in, throwing a fake with his right fist so he could strike Jack with his left. And Jack fell for it too, in every way possible - he went to block the right, which fell short, and was caught off guard from Bumlets' surprisingly strong attack from the left. His cheek absorbed the blow but still sent him staggering sharply to the right. Bumlets brought his right fist back and nailed Jack with an uppercut that sent him reeling and a final push to land him on the floor.

Jack's head hit the wood with a resounding crack but even as that was happening his legs were moving and a second later Bumlets too found himself earth bound. Jack rolled over and grabbed a fistful of Bumlets' hair, using it as a hold to smash his head into the floor. Bumlets kicked out and managed to hit Jack in the stomach, but Jack wouldn't let go and gave his head another push.

I watched in horror. His face running with blood, Bumlets let loose an almost cat-like snarl and kicked out again, landing a lucky hit to Jack's knee. Jack cried out and released his hold, then stood up, favoring the knee. Bumlets scooted away before standing up himself.

I guessed it was the combined effect of alcohol and Bumlets' blood on his hands that gave Jack an unneeded boost of confidence. He was the next to make an attack, an awkward sort of run that Bumlets easily stepped away from. Bumlets grabbed both of his shoulders and steadied him, then forced him against the wall and began to do his best to mess Jack's face up. Jack let himself slump in Bumlets' grasp, defeated, but if Bumlets noticed this, he didn't show it - he didn't lighten up on his assault or even acknowledge the fact that Jack was no longer struggling. I turned away.

Skittery almost knocked me flat when he brushed by, eyes angry and hands carrying a wide piece of wood that was always kicking around the bunkroom. Racetrack used it to keep track of who owed him what, and the board passed so close to my head that I could read the chicken scratch.

Skittery wasted no time. He crossed the rest of the distance in two stride and smashed the flat side of the board against the back of Bumlets' head. Bumlets collapsed to the floor, with Jack on top of him, both seeming to be unconscious. But Skittery, he was mad. And I think he would have gone in for another hit with the board if a new pair of hands hadn't steadied his own.

Swifty was back.

****

Author's Note: We are now taking votes for 'which Newsie in this story do you actually LIKE?!' contact Keza for more info… Heh heh heh. Chapter seven and chapter eight actually shouldn't be too far behind, so, hurrah! I'm psyched because I may actually finish a story. (Current number of chaptered stories finished: one. Oye vey.)

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Reviewers! Woo! -encourages-   
Cards: HAHA! I know. The ultimate sacrifice, eh? Or is that _slashing_ your favorite Newsie? I can never get it straight. Alas, you are in the real world, and I am insane. What's new, really?  
**Tabloid: **-mad sixing- Glad you like it. We can at least have ghost!Pie build us our castle, or something. Poor Snoddy is too much of a wuss to really do anything. Aye yi yi.  
**Falco Conlon: **I SO did not lie and you will see and you will… uhm… be wrong! HAH! Why? BECAUSE.  
**Thistle: **Nope, there's actually no slash in this story… well… except for some random bits of awkward, implied Dutchy/Specs. (Spiff!) The Swifty and Pie stuff will be explained fairly soon.  
**Lute: **Jazzy jazz jazz woo. -blink- Join the non-trusting club. -grumble-  
**Shade: **Sorry, he already (tried to) washed the blood off his hands… maybe next time? I mean… oi.  
**Mondie: **NEENER NEENER NEENER! (-is mature-)  
**ershey: **That mental kicking can get taxing, trust me, I know. Yes! More Race! Race is cool! And there will be MUCH more Race to come. Hurrah! Swifty's quite cuckoo 'up there.' Yes… a sketchy fellow, that one. I'm glad you're liking it! I hope it continues to surprise you.  
**Llama: **I feel like I've been reviving people a lot these days. I'm gonna miss Pie. -sigh- Oh, and tell me about exams, man! Tomorrow is my last day, thank god.


	7. Grit Slang

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Keeping it Safe  
_Chapter Seven: Grit Slang_

****

"The bright lights created starry holes in his eyes."

I think I would have been fine starting another poker game at Swifty's request, fine playing late and joking and laughing and trying my hardest to act 'normal,' fine ignoring the fact that two of the boys I had lived with for years were unconscious on their beds, even fine sitting across from and avoiding the gaze of a murderer. If Swifty didn't still have blood under his fingernails, I would have been fine.

I collapsed into bed as soon as I could, and still it was late into the night. The game was still going on, Swifty keeping them all in a good enough mood not to ask questions. Only Racetrack looked unsettled. I had placed the seed of doubt in his mind, and it showed.

I slipped into a dreamless sleep right away and woke at the same time as I always did, right before someone came up to shake the lazy ones awake… Snitch, at this point in time. Apparently Bumlets was still in bad shape. Everything felt normal as I dropped to the ground and made my way to the washroom, doing my best to dodge the smaller boys and get a spot by the sinks. It was too normal, it felt fake. 

I was trying so hard to be normal that I barely noticed as the washroom began to empty out while I remained, continuing on a long morning routine that I was half making up. I ended up alone in front of one of the mirrors, watching tears run down my face, knuckles white where they gripped the edges of the sink. A forgotten razor lay in the sink itself, I had been about to shave before I realized I had gone through the motions already twice before. I barely head the hesitant footsteps outside and didn't bother to turn when Race re-entered the room. I choked back a sob and forced myself to look at my reflection, dirty, pale, red-eyed. A real mess.

"You selling?" Race asked, his voice surprisingly kind.

I leaned forward until my forehead was touching the cool surface of the mirror.

"Yeah," I said. Race kept moving towards me, seeming not to have heard my quiet answer. "Yeah," I said again, louder, and my voice cracked. 

"Alright," Race sounded relieved. "Let's go. We won't be too far behind." But he didn't move, instead just turned away, waiting silently.

I took a few deep breaths and stood straight again. After another few moments I drew a shaky arm across my face, using my sleeve to wipe away any remnants of tears. My eyes remained red and slightly puffy. On the way out I grabbed my extra shirt, the rain had stopped during the night but outside it still looked cold and gray. Race followed me out, and downstairs Snitch waved a smug farewell. Both Race and I tipped our hats mockingly in reply, and once outside I smiled a little at the gesture.

Our walk to newspaper row was in silence, but when we arrived in sight of the headlines being written, all that changed. And we weren't all too far behind, either, Itey seemed to have taken a detour and joined us, munching a honeyed piece of bread happily.

"Morning," he said around a mouthful. "Great headline, eh?"

I paused outside the gates and glanced again to the World's board. "Ambassador Found Dead in Lover's Bed!" It announced. I smiled again.

"Not bad, not bad."

We entered through the gate and cut in near the front of the line where Dutchy let us in with a nod. Race was muttering to himself, already creating outrageous adaptations of the current headline.

"Would anyone notice if I changed it to 'mayor'"? he asked Itey, who was licking honey from his fingers.

"Of course not." 

I bought a hundred and twenty papers and met with Race again outside the gates. Itey had already disappeared - he was good at that. Race set his own hefty stack of papers down for a minute and adjusted his suspenders. 

"I'm going down to Sheepshead," he said. "The track's probably a little sloppy, but there will be a bunch of races today. Big crowds. So…"

"I'll come," I said. Race looked almost glad that he didn't have to ask the question himself. I squinted up at the sky, where the still-rising sun could be seen as a white outline behind the clouds. Race followed my gaze.

"Think it'll break through?"  
"Maybe," I sighed. "Just maybe."

+

"Love kills British Ambassador in bed!"

"Mistresses' loving slays government hotshot!"

"Night of love turns deadly!"

"Thank you, sah."

Race and I found ourselves side by side among the railbirds and exchanged grins. Race had just sold his last paper, and I only had three left. It was still early.

"Slacker," Race said, indicating my remaining papers. I handed two to a pair of approaching track goers and ignored him. My pocket was heavy - it was nice. The air was brisk, but there was no mistaking the mood of early spring.

"Is this the first day the track's open?" I asked.

"Third. They've been running a bunch of claimers to get everyone warmed up. No use risking the more valuable horses in the cold… plus-"

I cut Race off before he could really get going on his favorite subject. 

"Ok, so, I'll get rid of this on the way out and we can find some food."

"Yeah. We can sit down today," Race agreed. He brought a handful of coins from his pocket. "No need to steal this time. Besides, not many street vendors have started to set up."

"What to try The Traver?" I spoke of a small, tavern/diner near Sheepshead that was known for its dark interior and low prices. Race seemed to catch my drift.

"Time to talk," he said, and accepted my silence as conformation. 

Between leaving Sheepshead gates and stepping through The Traver's doorway we spoke only of selling and the races we had seen, intentionally steering clear of anything relating to our current situation. That all changed when we sat down.

"Pie's disappeared and you have a problem with Swifty," race spoke in hushed tones. "Now, I have a few ideas of my own about… you know, what's happening… what happened… but I know I should hear it from you." He hesitated and gave me a strange look. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, Snoddy. Everyone knows it. That's why people are scared of you." I blinked. Scared? "Don't look so out of it. They know that _you_ know things, that you see things. Bumlets, Snitch…" Another pause. "Swifty."

I tensed at the name.

"Yeah," Race said softly. "Swifty."

"Swifty killed Pie," I said in a rush. "I don't know why, I don't think… I know… Maybe I do. I don't… augh!" Anger began to replace my former sadness. "I mean -- they were friends! Like, partners, or something! It _doesn't make sense._"

Race didn't say anything, he studied his hands and sighed.

"Are you sure?"

I frowned. "Am I sure? What do you mean, am I sure? Remember? You saw me leave, saw me follow Pie. We talked about this last night. I followed Pie to keep him away from Jacklyn, and then Bumlets waited until we were gone to… oh." Race just nodded. "And I saw them -- Swifty and Bumlets -- walking together. Talking. But Swifty broke Bumlets' nose! They aren't supposed to be friends," I said numbly.

"I was right," Race said grimly. "And I think you get it."

"Swifty and Bumlets," I said. "Like a team. Then why did he help Pie out?"

Race frowned. He was thinking hard, so I sat back and thought to myself as well.

"His gain," I said a moment later.

"What?"

"His… what's the word. Advantage. You know? Swifty's not really one of us--"

"I know. Not anymore… he was," Race reminded me. I inclined my head. I remembered.

"He isn't anymore. And wasn't he getting ready to leave for good, before Kloppman died?"

Race was nodding slowly now. "So he stuck around to see who would take over. Why, though? To make sure we were all safe and sound in our beds?"

"No. To make sure Jack didn't get control. You know how he hates Jack."

"Everyone knows that," Race said. "Ok, that makes sense, then, if he and Pie were on friendly terms before, why not team up to keep Jack out? Right?"

"Yeah, that works. But I still think there was something more. Maybe Swifty owed him something?"

Race shrugged. "Who knows? We never will, at least. No one trustworthy left to ask, really."

Two bowls of murky soup were placed before us. I wiped off a spoon on a 'clean' spot on my shirt and dug in. Race took a few tentative bites and started up again.

"Alright, but then Swifty and Bumlets teamed up. He betrayed Pie. Broke the whole debt thing, if what you're saying is true."

"No… no," I mused. "Swifty had already paid off that debt by getting Pie in the Lodging House. I'd bet he was getting ready to leave again…"

"…and then Bumlets approached him," Race said with a sigh. He was playing restlessly with his food, I had almost finished mine. I had no idea what had been in it and wasn't eager to find out.

"Bumlets must have paid him," I realized. "I don't know how, but he must've. Swifty has no heart. He wouldn't have seen anything wrong with it. And Pie wouldn't have been paying him, of course. So then he played with Pie's emotions, using Jacklyn to get him to a place where he'd be off his guard."

"Who?"

"Jacklyn. That girl Pie was always with." I paused, then explained everything to him, about her and her role. Race was looking more disgusted by the minute. "But I don't know if she was in on the actual murder," I finished.

"Alright, I get it," said Race. "Besides, having him out with her all the time meant that Bumlets had the 'House to himself to get comfortable and get others on his side. Like Snitch."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Snitch. I really should get out of this whole business. I'm getting too old."

Race cracked a halfhearted smile but said nothing. He was probably less than a year younger than me, but he had a child's face. He could sell for years more.

"You think Swifty will leave now?" He asked after another minute.

"I guess… if he has nothing left to do."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"And…" Race hesitated, refusing to meet my eyes. "What are _you_ going to do?"

"Hmm?"

"Swifty. I mean… he killed someone who was pretty much your best friend, Snoddy. There's no… laws… for street trash like us, you know? We make our own. I mean --"

"Revenge," I said quietly. "I've thought about it… don't think I haven't. But look at me. I'm no fighter, you know that. I'm not even mean spirited. I'm the quiet one"

"Aye, the quiet one who knows too much," Race said with a ghost of a smile. "Listen, I'll help you with… whatever you might need. I liked him too, you know. We all did."

I just nodded.

-

****

Author's Note: I apologize for the shortness and dryness of this chapter. I felt like it was necessary, though, both to review all this stuff that's happened so far (hopefully it's cleared some confusion?) and work on the relationship between Snoddy and Racetrack. Plenty of action next chapter, so don't fret!

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THANK YOU SO MUCH REVIEWERS! I really do love you all. Keep on doing what you do best!

CELLO: I love you, wifey! Thanks for reading!  
**Tabloid: **My other wifey! Of course you like Swifty. It takes effort not too. MONDIE. Er. Woo. Mmm, little cheeses. Makes me think of really boring reunion type places you go to that have REALLY good snacks.  
**Sita-Chan: **Sistador! Oh man! That's it exactly, Blink is DEFINITELY a lapdog character. It's fun. Oh man, another Swifty fan girl. Kexxa strikes again.  
**Falco: **I say nothing. Mia Hamm and Michael Jordan! I haven't thought about that in forever.  
**ershey: **I hope you were happy with the Raceage in this chapter! Ah, yes, the random appearance of Skittery… see, that's what happened to me. I forgot about him until I was probably 6,000 words in, then I realized "ohh, so THAT'S what's been missing!" Shade told me to say he was in Jersey as an excuse. Hehe.  
**Llama: **Why thank you -- I'm sorry it's depressing! Wait, no I'm not, that's the intent. -grin- I like Skittery a lot too. Yes, extremely unsportsmanlike, but oh well.  
**Gothy: **THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION! Review! -cracks whip- I'm _quite _glad you're enjoying each other. Who doesn't like a little newsie smack down once in awhile?  
**Trolley: **Thank you very much! Quite the compliment. I'm glad those character… thingies… were helpful. They were definitely fun to write. Sorry about Blink! (I actually am sorry this time.) But Jack just _had_ to have a minion!  
**Thistle: **Thanks for the fight comment! I was a bit skeptical on that piece, but it didn't come out too badly.   
**Mondster: **Yes. Yes I am happy. -sticks tongue out-   
**Midnight Flare: **Thank you… addictiveness is always good. I hope I didn't lose anyone with this chapter, though! It was a bit slow.  



	8. Bleak Seasons

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Keeping it Safe  
_Chapter Eight: Bleak Seasons_

****

"Only once did I doubt your lies."

A whole week passed before anymore trouble started. We all went on with our usual routines, I'd get up before Bumlets would have a chance to physically push me out of bed, clean up in a half awake stupor, go out and sell… most likely by myself. Eat a stolen lunch or something cheap from a vendor if it had been a good day. Another afternoon alone selling, then head back in to the Lodging House on the early side, to make sure I still had a bed. We had gotten a few new additions, all young and shy, but still a threat to us older ones. 

The mood in the Lodging House was different than I ever remembered it being. Tense, cautious. Everyone was careful of what they said and who they said it to. It was fairly quiet there, even when everyone had gotten in for the night. When it got real dark Bumlets would come up and take Snitch's place as watchdog, counting to make sure that the number of heads matched the amount of money he had taken in. His count had only been unbalanced on one night. He had glared around the room, looking for any boy to use as an example. Five minutes later, Jake was crying and bleeding on the street outside. We all had gone to bed early that night.

Swifty stopped staying at the 'House after that one night when he had taken the board away from Skittery. No one knew where he went. Myself, I never asked and I tried not to care. As long as he was gone I could feel a little more comfortable at night, even with Snitch breathing down my neck trying to get me to start something. But I wouldn't be the one to start any trouble… another had that job. 

-

Jack didn't have a drop of alcohol in him when he approached Bumlets on the seventh night. He was clean, sober, and angry as hell. Race and I stopped our idle chatter as soon as we saw him get to his feet. Even Skittery looked a little worried.

"Ah, Jacky-boy?" Jack ignored him. "Hey! Jack! What're you doing!?"

Race and I exchanged glances.

"Madman," Skittery mumbled, and dropped his face into his hands. "I'm not saving him this time."

"What's he gonna do?" Race asked.

"Ol' Jacky's feeling righteous. Just watch." Skittery said. I looked to the door, where Jack and Snitch were arguing. Bumlets opened the door from the stairs a moment later and looked surprised to see Jack there, an inch or two from his face. 

"What do you want?" His voice easily carried across the room. 

Jack smiled and stepped back. He motioned around the room. "This," he said, still with that weird little smile. "Yeah, that's right. A challenge." He paused to take off his cowboy hat. "Me an' you, little boy. Once and for all, whaddya say?" 

Bumlets laughed hollowly. "A challenge? A formal challenge from _you_? Is this some sort of joke?"

Jack's smile faded. "Oh, it's no joke," he said. "Of course, you can decline. But then I'd have to leave. And take some of my friends with me." 

Bumlets looked past Jack to where all of us were sitting, Jack's younger admirers hovering around. I could picture the math he was doing in his head. If we all went, he would lose a lot of money. 

"Alright, I'll play this game," Bumlets said, to Jack now. "I've been challenged. The place will be Midtown East, near Crazy Joe's shop. You know the place."

"Alley, the space behind?"  
A nod.

"Yeah, I know it. And the time will be tomorrow, after lunch. Two o'clock."

We were all listening intently now. The last time I remembered something like this happening had been years ago, I was probably eight or nine. It was an exciting thing for everyone, and the World would find a lot of faces missing in the line for the afternoon edition the next day.

"No guns," Bumlets said. 

"No knives either," Jack added. He was best with his fists, but Bumlets looked annoyed.

"Fine," he said. "Anything else?"

"Everything else," said Jack with a gleam in his eye.

I sat back in my chair as they spit shook on it. I could feel a headache coming on.

-

The calm before the storm. That was what Itey had so wisely observed as we stood around in line the next morning. I glanced around at all the anxious looking faces and had to agree. Neither Jack nor Snitch had shown up to sell. Skittery, too, was absent. I ended up selling with a tired Race, both of us unconsciously working our way toward Midtown East as we scrambled to get rid of our papers. We paused for a sparse lunch around one thirty and then continued on until we found Crazy Joe's place. We were among some of the last to arrive, but pushed to the front of the group. A circle of kids from all over Manhattan and its neighboring boroughs had gathered, making sure to leave a large, empty space in the middle of them. There was more than enough room for a good fight - and with the closeness of the assembled boys, running away would be impossible.

The scrape and sudden flare of a match brought my head around and I saw Swifty, who had appeared beside me like a ghost. He cupped his hand around a fresh cigarette and lit it, then tossed the still-flaming match into the cleared ground. After a long drag he turned, met my eyes and winked. I squared my shoulders and turned back to Race, trying to start up a conversation and look preoccupied. Race hadn't noticed the addition of our 'friend.'

"Well, what do you think?" I asked. Race squinted as if weighing the opponents in his mind. He shrugged.

"I really don't know. Jack has the fists to back up his words, but Bumlets…he's a sly one. Tricky."

"Yeah," I murmured, distracted. "Making any bets?"

"I… no. I don't think so. I have a bad feeling about this one, Snoddy." Race shifted feet. "I don't know. Call it a gambler's sixth sense." 

I couldn't help but snigger at his last comment. "Yeah, too bad it hasn't come in handy until now."

Race didn't crack a smile. He turned back to studying Jack, who was talking with Skittery and Kid Blink.

"Bumlets will pull it off," Swifty's smooth voice said from my right. "Yeah?"

I continued to ignore him. I heard him chuckle at my lack of response, but he said no more.

From across the circle the crowd parted and a familiar face swaggered through, one I wasn' surprised to see. Spot Conlon took to the middle of the cleared ground and tapped his metal tipped cane on the dirt, the sharp sound quieting the boys instantly. It didn't matter who you were -- you _listened _to Spot Conlon. Even Swifty had a grudging respect for the kid. We all did… and he knew it.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Spot said with a pleased glance around the crowd. "Welcome. From what I hear, Jack Kelly has challenged Bumlets Mercado for leadership of the Manhattan Newsboys' Lodging House." He fell silent and let his words sink in. Most of the boys there already knew what was happening, but that was Spot for you - eager for attention and prepared with dramatic words. Still, I had to admit his words and way was effective. The uneasy silence that had settled over the crowd stayed in place, and Spot continued.

"I have been elected-"

"-self elected," Race cracked quietly.

"To act as judge to the fight." He stopped again and turned a searching gaze to each of the contenders in turn. "Be fair, boys," he said, then laughed loudly. I took an involuntary step back, and into the person in back of me. They grumble but made room. 

"Spot's not a big fan of Bumlets, is he?" Race said.

"No love lost between him and Jack neither," Swifty murmured from my other side. Race heard this and leaned in front of me.

"Oh. Hey, Swifty," he said casually, but snapped quickly back into place. I shook my head. Someone let loose a piercing whistle, and Jack and Bumlets went at each other.

-

I've seen fights that are all about brain and fights that are all about strength. In this fight Jack held the strength but Bumlets kept his head as his best weapon, and so each were forced to compromise silently. This wasn't going to be the bar brawl that Jack would be best at, but it wouldn't be a complete game of wits either. And so after the initial charge, Bumlets not bothering to dodge as Jack crashed into his chest, both stumbled and backed away a few steps away and studied each other, still in a ready stance. 

The silence of before had lost its grip and cheers, yells, and taunts rang out through those gathered. Yeah, this was their idea of a good time. But it was making me sick. I massaged my temples and looked again to the middle, but neither boy had moved much. Smoke from Swifty's cigarette caught a breeze and filled my face, I gritted my teeth.

Without warning Bumlets lunged forward with quick steps and went for a fake to Jack's right. Jack didn't fall for it, instead he moved so the fake actually caught his shoulder, a weak throw, and used the following half second of stillness to take hold of Bumlets' shoulders. He brought his head down on Bumlets' with a loud crack, then took advantage of the other boy's dizziness and threw him to the ground. Another second and he himself dropped, his knees landing squarely on Bumlets' chest and knocking out his breath. Jack's punches hit him squarely in the face at each turn, I could see Jack's mouth moving but with the noise it was impossible to tell what he was saying. Nothing complimentary, I'm sure.

Bumlets' searching hands ran over the ground, his fingers found something heavy and closed around a rock. Two of Jack's teeth were knocked out, and the 'cowboy' jumped off with a strangled yell. Bumlets stood, still holding the rock, and threw it at Jack, who was too distracted to do anything but raise an arm in defense. The rock hit his left wrist and Jack staggering back, staring at what looked like a now useless hand. I could see Spot, talking and laughing with one of his cronies. Yeah. A real judge.

Bumlets knew he'd be in trouble if he were trapped on the ground again, so he stayed his distance, only jumping in to throw a punch or two before slinking carefully back. And then he slipped.

I didn't even see it happen, but the next thing I knew Jack was again pinning Bumlets down, beating him unmercifully while Bumlets writhed in the dust, completely trapped. Only his left arm was free, clawing for a hold at Jack's face that he couldn't reach. It looked like it was over. But Swifty remained calm next to me, smoking thoughtfully and snickering to himself. I took another look and saw that Bumlets had given up trying to get Jack with his left hand, and was instead inching it towards a pocket in his shirt, which Jack's knee was right below. He finally found something - a knife. Small, pocket sized, but it was a blade. And it wasn't allowed. Spot was on the other side of the fray, he couldn't see Bumlets' left hand and so couldn't see the weapon. Jack didn't see it either, he was intent on closing up Bumlets' eye right eye when the steel bit deep into his chin.

Jack cried out a garbled 'foul!' as he fell backwards, and Spot leapt to attention looking confused. Bumlets spun the knife away on the ground and climbed up, face bloody, shirt bloody, only his left eye fully functional. Jack caught a few of the drops of blood falling from his chin and the look of rage on his face was one I never want to see again. He charged, catching Bumlets and his momentum bringing them both to the ground once more. And it would just be that once more. Bumlets' earlier afflictions added onto the force at which his head hit the ground knocked him unconscious. Jack continued punching at him, his knuckles now bloody and his voice now hoarse, and the silence fell over the crowd again. Spot and another pulled Jack off Bumlets' body and forced him to the other side.

"Calm down, Jack!" Spot yelled. "You won, you bastard! Jesus!"

Jack stood shaking, and didn't acknowledge any words. Swifty's cigarette fell from his fingers, and his boot ground it into the dust. I turned my head, but he was simply facing forward, his eyes glinting maliciously. Race was also watching. He took my elbow and I started, spinning in almost fear.

"Come on," Race said with a worried frown. "Let's go." He indicated Swifty with a jerk of his head. "Someone's not happy." He tilted his head towards the circle, still empty, amazingly no other boys had gone in. "And I don't like the looks of this."

I nodded and followed him out, it was easy to weave our way around the throngs of startled faces. I had a queasy feeling in my stomach… Race was right. There was no use in hanging around. Nothing good was going to come from any of it.

I looked back once as we walked away. Skittery was talking fervently to Jack. Bumlets hadn't budged. And Swifty had disappeared.

+

"I don't know if I want to go back," Race sighed. We were walking along a quiet street, taking one of the longer routes back to the Lodging House. It was dusk, the air and shadows gloomy and gray, and a warm breeze was blowing into our faces.

"Back where?"

"Home, Snoddy. The Lodging House."

I was quiet. Home. It didn't feel like home anymore.

"Yeah," I said. "…yeah." 

No more words passed between us that night.

-

****

Author's Note: Oh, just wait. Juuuuust wait.

****

Reviewers are like good music: they never get old! I LOVE YOU ALL!  
Llama: If only the mood of this story allowed Pie to come back in a humorous, prank-pulling ghost character. Sigh. As I've probably mentioned before, I'm very glad you're enjoying it, and I'm glad the twists and things are working out! Gotta keep you kids on your toes, you know.   
**Midnight Flare: **Hurrah! Can't have a reviewer die on me, that's no good. And rambling is good. Very good. I'm all for rambling. It's quite, uhm, healthy. -shifty eyes- Or so JP (SpottedOne) tells me.  
**Tabbers: **-snug- Yes! INSANITY IS GOOD! You should know that, or master of psycho Pie!  
**ershey: **Tell me about it, I still can't believe I forgot Skittery. As I was writing in the beginning I was like "SOMEthing's missing," but I had no idea until awhile through. Whoops! Hope the action in here was adequate. And, good, the convo last chapter did its job then, at least for you. Whew!  
**rumor: **(I'm STILL trying to think of a good nickname for you that isn't a disease.) -innocent look- Motive behind nice!Race? Me? What are you talking about!? -slinks away-  
**Gothitica: **Hurrah for Race! LOVE!  
**Cello: **Hello, my name is Molly, and I love you as well. You are not first in this one, but you're FIRST IN MY HEART! -long pause- ewwww…. I'm going to go into a corner and hate myself now.  
**Falco: **I have only one thing to say to you, Puerto Rican fiend: You owe me waffles.  
**Mondie: **Aw, gee. -grin- YES! ITEY AND HIS BREAD! MY FAVORITE PART OF THE WHOLE STORY! Haha! Really, though, sadly enough I'm not kidding. I'll have to add more about Itey and bread. Or something. Uhm… yes. Woo, Valentines! I'm very excited to get yours. And I hope my little piece JUST FOR YOU (which I KNOW you recognized) helped replace a little more faith. Woo.  
**Thistle: **Hahaha out to be good. "He's a badass gambler. He's an intelligent wuss. Can they make it together in the city? Racetrack and Snoddy in: Out to be Good!" Uhm… yes. Anyway. ARE things tying up? Maybe. Maybe not. 


	9. Reprimands and Drunk Talk

****

Keeping it Safe

__

Chapter Nine: Reprimands and Drunk Talk

Note: Due to the ridiculous delay of this chapter, it is recommended for readers to re-read/skim the last few chapters in order to avoid confusion.

-

__

We got to the Lodging House and split ways, Race to check up on things with Skittery and I to… wander around the room aimlessly. I ended up lounging with Dutchy and Specs as they watched Snitch come up the stairs, bemused.

"He'll stay," Dutchy said with a sort of all knowing, lofty air. Specs just laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Ha! No, Jack's gonna kick him out faster than a… he's gonna kick him out no matter what. Snoddy?"

I shrugged. "Snitch'll be gone before morning," I said. "Bumlets too. Jack isn't going to stand for competition, even if it means losing a little money."

"I dunno if Bumlets will be gone," Dutchy said and inclined his head towards a lower bunk near the door. Bumlets lay sprawled on it, arms and legs barely contained on the mattress. "Look at him. He ain't movin' too soon."

Indeed. Bumlets hadn't moved an inch since he had fallen during the fight. I was worried, but at the same time distant, like I didn't care but I thought I should. Jack spotted Snitch and leapt to confront him. Snitch, for once, looked like he didn't want any trouble. He brushed by Jack and knelt by the bunk, holding Bumlets' arm. Jack crouched beside him and began talking, but we were too far away to hear.

"Damn," Specs muttered. All three of us moved casually forward. Still no luck, but Snitch wouldn't meet Jack's eyes, eyes which were shining maliciously. Jack laughed grimly, then stood and slapped the shorter boy on the back. Snitch's gaze remained fixed on Bumlets' face, his expression stoic. I saw now that one of his hands had grasped Bumlets' wrist, but it was dropped as Snitch stood up. He took a long look at Jack, then walked out again. Slowly, thoughtfully. He closed the door behind him, and that was the last I ever saw of Snitch.

Jack glanced one more time at Bumlets before casting his glance around the room. His stare met mine and his right eye narrowed in a smirk. I turned back to Dutchy, yawning.

"Speech," I told him, and a moment later Jack cleared his throat.

"Go to bed," he said, and smirked again. I raised my eyebrows. Nothing more came, Kid Blink emerged from the crowd and joined Jack as he went downstairs.

"Hmm. I'm surprised, yet glad," Specs said with a hint of a smile. He didn't seem to be bothered by any of the recent events in the least. I fell asleep wishing for his indifference.

-

Bumlets was gone when we woke. No one asked questions. You could tell we were all itching to, though, everyone was casting uneasy glances around the room and at each other. The bunk Bumlets had been resting on was neatly made up, far neater than it had probably ever been. Race came to me to get a match for his morning cigar and stood, puffing away absentmindedly.

"Mornin," he said.

I rubbed at my eyes. "Mornin."

Race opened his mouth to say something, but then Skittery called him across the room. He began to walk away, then stopped and turned to face me again.

"It's going to be a strange day," he said, then shook his head and joined Skittery. I shivered despite myself and glanced outside. The air was thick with the morning's fog. It certainly had an eerie quality to it. I entered myself into the tail end of the line of boys heading out to sell and readjusted my hat. I felt like I should be used to strange days by now.

Jack surprised us all by locking the Lodging House after everyone had left and joining us in our trek to the distribution center. He put an expression of mock hurt when someone questioned what he was doing, reminding us that he "had to say goodbye to ol' weasel." I sensed no other motive. It was simple, really. Just another chance to rub his new superiority into our faces. Beautiful.

-

Jack made his way to the front of the line, Kid Blink close in tow. Of course. Skittery hung back, bemused, and tried to get Race to let him play with Race's harmonica. Things seemed normal, save for the heavy fog that still hung low over our part of the city. It gave everything a spooky look. And it was cold. The cold always makes me moody. What happened next did nothing to help.

"Jacky-boy."

There was only one voice powerful and recognizable enough to silence a crowd of newsboys with a word, and that was Spot Conlon's. But this wasn't Spot Conlon, no, Spot's voice didn't have the tendency to turn my blood to ice. Somehow, though, Swifty's utterance of those words quieted everyone down real fast. We turned as one to the gates of the 'center where he stood.

Little more than his form was visible through the fog. He leaned against the rightmost brick wall, head bowed. One of his legs supported his frame, the other was bent up with the bottom of his foot against the wall itself. Once he knew he had our attention he turned his head and looked Jack square in the eyes. Jack himself hopped off the wooden platform and took a few steps towards the taller boy, then stopped. He crossed his arms and spit casually to the side.

"All smiles today, I see," Swifty said bitterly. He shifted and stood up straight. I realized I was holding my breath. Race and Skittery had stopped fooling around and Skittery actually looked concerned.

Jack shrugged. "And why not?" He asked. "I'm in a good position. I'm spending some quality time with my boys. And it's a beautiful day."

Swifty through his head back and laughed mirthlessly. "It is a beautiful day," he said with a smirk. His expression hardened. "Beautiful night, last night… yeah?"

Jack swallowed. "I dunno, Swifty. You talking about the actual night or the girl you was with?"

Swifty shook his head with another chuckle.

"So you didn't tell 'em, Jacky-boy? Didn't let your boys know? Or did you decide it would be… your little secret." He paused. "Whoops. _Our _little secret."

Jack looked disgusted. "I have no idea what you're talking about. _You _have no idea what you're talking about." He turned his back and began to return to the window.

"Tell them, Jack," Swifty said loudly, and Jack halted. "Tell them what you were doing last night."

Jack started walking once more. Swifty tried again.

"Hey! Jacky-boy! Where's Bumlets?"

Now our crowd was really quiet. Necks craned forward, everyone wanted to hear the answer to the question none of us had been brave enough (or stupid enough) to ask.

"I don't know," Jack said quietly without turning.

"What?"

"I don't _know!_" He shouted. "I don't know, you bastard! Shut up!"

Swifty was angry. "You don't know! You don't know where he is _now! _What about last night? It takes a lot of bricks to weigh a person down, doesn't it, Jacky-boy! How many bricks did it take, Jack? How many bricks?"

"I don't fucking _know!"_ Jack spun on his heel now and made as if to charge Swifty, then stopped a foot or two from the other boy's face. They glared daggers at each other, seething.

"Tell them, Jack!" Swifty was still shouting though he was inches from Jack. "Tell them how you dragged Bumlets' body through the street because he was too heavy for you to lift on your own! Tell them where you found the bricks to tie to his arms and legs! Tell them how he woke up before you were done and don't forget to tell them how he tried to scream before the water c-"

Jack punched him.

****

Author's Note: Man, this sucks. Like, a four month delay and all you get is a short chapter. I'm sorry! Hopefully finishing this will kick my arse into gear to finally finish this thing up. Review, please, lovers! Woo.

****

There's something about the way reviewers look tonight…  
Trolley: Thank you oh-so-much! Yes, yes, must keep lovin' that Evil!Swifty. He's a marshmallow inside. Really!  
**Flare-the-Llama: **Well, uhm, you got your wish! Merr. If you are still feeling Jack!love I admire you for your loyalness. Snoddy says: "Hola."  
**B: **Hurrah! Much love to you, darling, and I hope you will continue reading this… thing. Swifty is never a happy camper. Tsk tsk.  
**Wifey: **Marry you? Were you talking to Evil!Swifty or me? I hope it was me, or else we will need some serious marriage counseling! Arr.  
**rumor: **Yaa run-on reviews! Sah-WEET. Haha, yeah, Snoddy likes to think he's the cool one but we all know that Swifty has that title. He'll learn someday. And Spot… snark! Eehehe.  
**Gothitica: **COME BACK GOTHY! Love, Kez.  
**Thistle: **Mmm, nope with the poison thing, but I do like how your mind works! Haha. A fine idea, I may have to steal it for later. -eye dart- Er… of course not. That's dirty. Foul play. Ahem. LOOK! IT'S NELSON MANDELA! -runs while everyone is distracted-  
**Midnight Flare: **Aaahaha you are insane. I'm not really sure what else to say. Really enjoy reading your reviews, though. They are a little unnerving, but hey, that's life… er, or something.  
**Tabby: **You haven't any idea of the least.  
**Mondster: **Aw, sweetie, I love you! Come back to us you are working at the Peach Ladder… Orange Blossom… Apple Orchard… whatever that place is, you are working too much there! I need to hear more Jai!obsession stories, damn it!   
**Falco: **HAWT.


	10. Is This It?

**Keeping it Safe  
**_Chapter Ten: Is This It?_

That's when the riot started.

Yeah, I'd like to say that we were civilized enough to restrain ourselves and let Swifty and Jack sort out their own differences. But we're teenage boys. We'll look for any excuse to get into a brawl. So once Jack floored Swifty with that massive punch to the jaw, it was all over. With a chorus of yells the platform leading to the office was emptied and all hell broke out.

I sank a fist into someone's stomach and felt all the frustrations and anger start to pour out from my body. With each hit I felt a little better, every time I made contact my expression brightened a little more. By the time the bulls came we were all bruised and bloody, exhausted but still going at it. They took us all away to the refuge, just for a night. I had a feeling it was going to be one to remember.

-

It wasn't the longest night of my life but it came pretty damn close. For all his stories and claims, Jack made no attempt to escape. As soon as we were all in and separated he sulked off by himself and proceeded to ignore us all -- which was good, considering we were all trying to do the same to him. Race found me almost immediately though we had been separated. He knew the place well.

"Guess who's gone," he said grimly.

I couldn't help but feel a little relieved. I hadn't been looking forward to spending the night with my close Chinese 'friend.'

"Swifty. Where'd he go? More importantly, how'd he get away?"

Race shrugged. "He slipped out before the coppers got everything under control. I don't think he's the only one who got away… plus he was pretty close to the exit. And I have no idea where he headed, but…"

"You have a few guesses," I finished. We both fell silent. I sighed. There was no use talking around the real subject at hand.

"Think it's true?" I asked and shifted awkwardly.

Race rubbed at his eyes as if he were in pain. "Yes," he said. "And no."

I waited.

"A few months ago I would have said no. But with what I've seen since then?" His voice dropped lower. "Still, I just don't think Jack could've done it. Not the Jack I know."

"This isn't the Jack you know. That's why you've been trying to get away from him," I reminded him. "He changed. Changed from an arrogant bastard to a dangerous one."

"So after all this you believe Swifty's word?"

I paused. He had a point, yet… "Jack didn't deny it."

"We'll see about that," Race said and headed across the room. Skittery, who had (of course) been listening in the whole time, sidled over to me.

"He's sure got his knickers in a knot," he sneered. "I thought Race and Jack weren't getting along."

"You know how close they used to be, though," I said. "I think he shocked. Jack's a bastard, but would he go this far?"

"Jack hated Bumlets as much as Swifty hated Jack. And the feeling was returned. Why not get rid of hi,?"

I didn't answer. Across the room, Race and Jack were in the middle of a heated discussion and I couldn't help but watch. Skittery followed my gaze. He whistled under his breath.

"Here we go."

We approached the two, me absentmindedly rubbing at my jaw where I had been hit earlier in the day. I could feel a bruise forming at my collarbone as well. What a day.

"What was I supposed to do?!" Jack was asking Race. He looked annoyed. "he just would have challenged me again. I worked too hard for this. I waited too long. I **deserve** this!"

"You **deserve** nothing," Race said, disgusted. "You killed someone, Jack. Killed him. Did you ever really think about that?"

Jack was silent. He noticed Skittery and myself.

"Hey," he said sullenly. I shook my head, but Skittery romped right over and gave him a hearty slap on the back.

"Jacky-boy!" He cried. Jack looked almost relieved. But the smile disappeared from Skittery's face. "You bastard," he said, and the punch that followed drove Jack back into the wall. Jack sprang forward at once, fists up and ready to retaliate, but Skittery had turned his back and was already walking away. Jack deflated a little. At once I noticed how haggard and tired his face looked, but I felt no sympathy. I imagined mine was much the same. He looked to me, expectant for another attack of some sort.

"So it's true," I said finally, lamely.

Jack hesitated, then nodded. Race tried to catch my eye, but I avoided his gaze. I could feel the frustration I had gotten rid of that morning building up again. I didn't know who to direct it to, but I felt like if I didn't let it out soon I would do something stupid. I looked again to Jack and curled my hand into a fist, my nails biting my palms. He noticed the motion and tensed.

I opened my mouth and then the door creaked open and the warden entered our room.

We all split up and hurried to our beds.

-

We were released early enough the next morning to pick up the morning edition. Race walked by my side, unusually silent and sullen. I ventured a question.

"Do you know where Jack is?"

"Back at the Lodging House, I guess," he said.

"He dares to?"

Race had no answer.

"There's no way in hell he'll be able to keep control after what's happened," I continued.

"Yeah?" Race looked angry. "Well who's going to stop him, Snoddy?"

This time I had no answer.

Race walked on ahead and with a sigh I shoved my hands into my pockets and looked at the ground as I walked. Because of this, I failed to notice the slight female figure standing in my path until I bumped right into her.

I grabbed her arm to keep from falling with a hurried apology, then saw her face and released my grip. Jacklyn.

She recognized me instantly and her features paled.

"I didn't know you came outside into the sun," I shot. "Bad night?"

She was clearly taken aback.

"Snoddy, I-"

"I don't need to talk to you," I said, and started to brush by but she took hold of my wrist and turned be back around.

Now she looked angry.

"If you listen to me, maybe I can explain!" She said, but it was as if I couldn't see her, only Pie's bloody body with her voice over the image. I put a hand over my eyes.

"Swifty is a bad, bad person, Snoddy," she said.

"Oh really," I said, eyes still covered.

"I mean it, Snoddy. And you know it."

I withdrew my hand, seething, the anger continuing to grow in me. "So? It's all his fault?"

"Yes! I didn't **know**, Snoddy. I was just doing my job. Swifty set the rest up. I was as shocked as you were." Her voice quieted. "Just as sad as you were."

"Horse **shit**. Are you trying to tell me that you loved him? Because I would've thought you'd have a better way to show it. Better than, say, sleeping with other men."

"Snoddy, it's my job to-"

"Did you love him?" I interrupted.

"What?"

"Did you love him?"

Silence. She looked to the side.

"Swifty asked you to do it, didn't he. To step out with Pie. He made you."

She nodded, biting her lip.

"And you never noticed how badly Swifty was using you? What his final goal was?"

She shook her head. "You don't asked questions," she said softly. "Not in those situations."

"Looks like you should have," I said bitterly.

She turned back to me with a glare.

"What will it take for you to realize that I could do nothing? Even if I** had** known about it all I couldn't have done anything!"

I closed my eyes. She was telling the truth. Why should Swifty let her in on his plan when there was the chance that she could ruin it? No, better to leave her ignorant.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I pretended I hadn't heard. "Where is he?"

She frowned. "Swifty? I don't know…" She paused. "Actually I haven't seen him - except from a distance - since that night. Of course, I've been trying to avoid the bastard."

"How does that work? You guys are in the same place every night."

She shook her head. "He stopped coming a few nights after… that… happened. From what I've heard, he's in some trouble at McSweeney's. Big trouble -- money trouble. Yeah, he's been making himself scarce."

I was surprised. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I had always thought Swifty to be invincible.

"People are starting to get upset," Jacklyn continued. "They'll find him." Suddenly her expression changed to a grim smile. "He'll get it."

I felt a chill dance down my back. Jacklyn looked over my shoulder and waved to someone I couldn't see.

"I have to go," she said. I think we were both relieved.

"Listen, you have a good head on your shoulders. Don't lose it."

I laughed mirthlessly and nodded her off. She left me alone on the crowded street. It was too late to sell now.

I was hungry.

-

Around noon I caught up with race, who had worked his way up to Central Park and had a few of the younger boys with him, some of which I didn't recognize. Showing them the tricks of the trade, I guessed. I watched from a few yards away.

"Don't stick so close together, now. Spread out, but be sure you can still see him, Maze. Or hear him. Just in case there's some sort of trouble."

Maze, a tiny thing with white-blond hair, said something in response that I didn't catch and Race laughed. I found myself smiling -- leave it to Race to keep his cool in these times. As he sent the boys off and picked up his own remaining stack of papers, I made my entrance.

"New boys?" I asked.

Race wasn't surprised to see me. He had probably known I was there all along.

"Just one," he said. "The punk with green eyes. I found him trying to pickpocket me this morning."

I took a seat on one of the park benches.

"Guess who I saw this morning?"

Race shrugged. Now that the boys were gone, he was back to being sullen.

"Jacklyn. Remember her? Dark hair…"

He nodded silently and raised his eyebrows.

"Is she the one that Pie…"

"Yeah."

He nodded again, almost to himself.

"Well? What'd she want?"

"Nothing, I guess. She wasn't looking for me, but… well, she said she had nothing to do with any planning involving Pie. She had no idea."

"It could be true," Race mused. "Or she could be trying to get on your good side."

"She had no reason to," I said, though now I had doubts. "The meeting was accidental, remember?"

"Swifty's next victim?" Race continued.

"She said she hadn't seen him…" I sighed.

Race studied me carefully. "I have to sell, but… just be on your guard, okay?"

I snorted and stretched out on the bench, ready for a nap.

"Aren't I always?"

-

I woke with a start when a small rock bounced off my forehead.

"Hell!" I cried and clapped a hand to the spot. I tried to sit upright but tumbled to the ground instead…

…right at Swifty's feet. He had another stone in his hand but dropped it when I stood up.

"Good," he said. "You're awake."

I simply stared, and he grinned.

"Good," he said again.

I was feeling a little groggy and was startled to notice that dusk was falling. I'd been more tired than I had thought.

"What do you want?" I said finally. The coming darkness wasn't the only thing that was making me edgy.

"Believe it or not, I'm looking for your help."

I blinked. "What?"

Swifty looked amused. "To get what I want needs more than just one person. So I'm coming to you. Is it really all that strange?"

"Yes," I said immediately, then regretted it. I remember both Jacklyn's and Race's words of caution.

Swifty looked at me carefully. "You know what Jack did, right? I mean… you know that it's true."

I nodded. It continued to get darker. Swifty hadn't moved an inch from his original position.

"Hey, Snoddy." He had a new light in his eyes. "I'm leaving, you know. I'm out. But I can't leave knowing that that **bastard** won it. After all this. One last thing on my 'to-do list,' Snoddy, and then I'm gone. For good. New York is history. Help me with this. A favor. Do me a favor." His smile grew wider.

His words rewoke the anger resting in my stomach.

"A favor! I owe you nothing!" I shouted, my words fighting through air thick with tension. The half smile remained on his face.

"Calm down, Snoddy. You don't like Jack either, and you know what he did. What's stopping you?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's wrong, Swifty, whether you know it or not. I don't just go around killing people because I don't like them, or because they themselves did something wrong." My voice lowered. "Though there are a few exceptions."

He laughed loudly. "Is that a threat?"

I didn't answer.

"You wouldn't even be hurting him," Swifty continued. "All you have to do is bring him to me. It's not hard and I'll give you something in return. Whatever you want. Money. Respect. Girls…"

"Seems like you've already arranged that," I said under my breath, remembering again Race's skeptical words.

"What?" Swifty frowned, confused.

I sighed. "I met up with Jacklyn today."

"Who? Jacklyn… oh, Jackie. Really." He seemed completely uninterested.

"Yeah. She said you were in money trouble, or something."

His frown deepened, then his composure returned and he shrugged.

"She can believe what she wants." He glanced over his shoulder and then returned to watching me.

I took advantage of the lull in conversation.

"I have to get back," I told him.

"Alright. Meet me on Duane around seven-thirty tomorrow, then?"

God, I hated that smirk of his. I began to walk away, and he made no move to follow me. My frustration, barely held in check, pounded in my head.

"I'm not helping you, Swifty," I called back over my shoulder. "I'll just be much happier when you're gone!"

**Author's Note:** This chapter written over various days on a bus while driving across Ireland. Woo! About half of chapter eleven was also written, so I can confidently promise you that this story will be finished soon. Ahh! The prospect is almost too much to bare, for me. This never happens. Anyway, thanks to my oh-so-faithful readers and reviewers who somehow remembered this story after 392759843 hiatus months and dropped in to say 'hello.' I truly appreciate that!

**Keep up the good work… hee.  
Pink!Frog:** Remember: I love you. -evil smile-  
**Flare o' the Llama:** Jack hate is oh so much more fun than Jack love. I don't think I've ever called anyone else in any of my stories a bastard more times than him. Hee!  
**Trolley:** Contrary to popular belief, yep, I'm still hanging around! Yes… Lapdog Blink makes me sort of sad, but then Evil!Swifty comes along and gives him a swift kick in the rear and we all have a good laugh. And by 'we' I mean 'myself, alone in a room.' Yeah… I'm cool like that.  
**Flare o' the Midnight:** -hands you a sleek blue ribbon- yes, you succeeded in the unnerving. You'd think I'd have seen it all in the past year or two, but… man. Who knows. Also, "blinks quizzically" pretty much sums up my expression the entire time of reading your reviews (which I usually must do three or four times, because they amuse me so much) and this is good. Thanks so much!  
**ershey:** This is fairly soon, no? And longer too, woo! Twists are my favorite. They're much fun, and they make Falco mad, which leads to more fun, etc… sort of a delightfully bizarre cycle. Like cicadas. Hee.  
**Falco:** Again… HAWT! Just you wait, my little panini. (Filled with cheese and spicy chicken, mmm.) For Evil!Swifty shall conquer the WORLD! Ooh, tinsel.


	11. Breaking Point

****

Keeping it Safe_  
Chapter Eleven: Breaking Point_

** __**

I slept uneasily that night. No one in the Lodging House had made a move towards Jack… or even spoken to him… but nevertheless he remained hidden in the office room down the stairs. Not even Kid Blink was with him, no, Blink stayed in the bunk room with us, sulking.

I went to bed early and tried to ignore all the bunks that had been emptied so recently. Race's new findings helped to fill the space, their excited whispers and endless questions made me smile despite my restlessness.

It was dark when Race shook me awake, his height forcing him to stand on his toes just to reach my shoulder.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately, but he just shook his head and laughed.

"Nothing," he said. "It's time to get up."

I slid out of my bunk while Race continued waking the others up. It was morning, alright, but a thick layer of black clouds covered the city and darkened the streets considerably.

Race appeared at my side. "Beautiful day, eh?"

"Gorgeous," I mumbled before retreating to the washroom. "Say, where's Jack?" I asked the mirror as I searched for my razor.

Race's reflection frowned back at me. "Good question. Probably in his 'office,' but I haven't checked yet."

"Yeah. Why bother… let him hide."

"I guess."

My words were casual but my true feelings a little different. Yes, I could care less about Jack at this point. His recent actions were unforgivable and filled me with disgust. But somehow the thought of Swifty once again getting his way really made my blood boil.

"Snoddy?"

"Yeah?"

Race frowned again. "You okay?"

"Yeah… why?"

"You're grinding your teeth."

I hadn't even noticed. I shrugged it off and concentrated very hard on shaving without causing myself any harm. My hand was shaking like crazy. Race must have decided to ignore it.

To my left, Kid Blink stood, slouched, staring dully into the mirror. The hand holding his razor had frozen halfway to his face and was slowly dripping water. Yeah, he was lost.

Race followed my gaze through the mirror.

"Poor kid," he muttered, the scrape of blade on skin accenting his words. "He idolized Jack."

I grunted in agreement. Kid Blink's focus shifted from his reflection to the wet razor blade and he blinked a few times. I wiped off my face and gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder before leaving the room. He wasn't such a bad kid. Just… lost. Very lost.

Who isn't?

-

I shouldered open Jack's "office" door without bothering to knock. He was still there. Not knowing how to feel about this, I gave him an awkward salute.

He stared blankly at me with no answer. I decided to leave before I did anymore damage and closed the door gently behind me. Race was coming down the stairs as I was exiting. He was laughing. I felt annoyed but smiled and joined him outside.

"Selling today, I see."

"Yeah," I replied dryly. "I thought I might try it out."

"Good. Where are you heading to?"

"Dunno," I shrugged. "Lower East Side, I guess. Round those parts." Swifty's haunting grounds, and thought I didn't mention it I had a feeling that Race knew. He said nothing but nodded slowly.

The younger boys ran around and ahead of us and Race was back to his smiling self.

"Look at 'em," he said. "Remember when we were that size?"

"No," I answered truthfully. It seemed like lifetimes ago that I ran to get a place in line, only to be moved back when the older kids entered. I tried to recall some of those older boys, Gooser, Soldier, Lin. Some probably dead, others most likely dying. What had happened to them? Who know… who cared. Suddenly everything seemed incredibly pointless. Then the image of Pie-eater in a pile on the floor flashed once again into my head and my cynical view was forgotten in favor of that ill-concealed rage.

Race must have noticed the conflicting emotions on my face, he stayed quiet and thought to himself. We parted ways, him going ahead to keep an eye on the younger kids while I hung back. Clouds were beginning to gather in the section of town I was planning on heading into but I shrugged it off, figuring nothing would come of it until much later that night. I had forgotten about my experiences with New York rain.

-

I couldn't remember the last time I had only taken twenty papers. If I'd had it the way I really wanted, I wouldn't have purchased any… but I needed a front. Something to stop the questions and allow me to slip away fairly quickly. Go to Lower East Side, wander around, make no attempts to sell anything. That was my plan, but as I glanced over the day's headlines I began to have my doubts. Was I just wandering, orunconsciously looking for Swifty? I didn't want to see him, yet I felt like I needed to talk to him to make myself feel better -- to make sure that he wouldn't go after Jack, that he was truly leaving. Jack… that's what I should have done. I should've talked to Jack, convinced him to leave before it was too late for him. Then everyone could benefit - Jack would be gone for good, he's keep his life, and Swifty would go away unsatisfied.

I tucked my papers under my arm, set in my decision, and began to backtrack to the Lodging House. I ignored Dutchy's cheery "Good morning" and Race's puzzled look and walked with my head bent, feeling tired. Swifty's goddamn smirk kept running through my head, and it was getting me pretty worked up. By the time I was within sight of the Lodging House, my pace was so swift I was nearly running.

I dropped my papers on the stairs and crashed through the front door. Silence. My heart was in my throat and I could feel my head pounding, a million thoughts were running through my head as I played out the various scenes that could greet me upon opening the office door, only a few feet away now.

The door was slightly ajar but offered no glimpse into the room itself. I raised a shaking hand above the doorknob and pushed it open weakly. With a few stubborn creaks it swung fully open and I grabbed the frame to steady myself as I took in the scene.

Nothing. The room was empty. Chairs were knocked over, drawers pulled out, cabinets open wide -- but not a soul occupied the small space. I could see papers and trinkets littering the floor, but… where was Jack? And what was the deal with this mess? But I had answered the questions in my mind before I had words to express them. Swifty.

I was in the room now, looking around, bewildered, and my right hand curled into a fist to punch the table, which shook unhappily. I couldn't believe it. Swifty had done it, he had won. Now there was another body to add to his count and he could leave the city, start a new life with the knowledge that no one remained that would challenge him in any sort of way.

Right?

I looked at my hand, which was still resting on the table and beginning to ache. I looked at the table leg nearest to me, which had been half rotted for as long as I could remember. Then I took my hand and snapped the leg off at its weakest point and left the room, ignoring the table crashing down behind me. I kicked my papers off the steps and started off, this time knowing exactly what I was going out to find. I was gripping the wood hard enough to drive little splinters into my hand and I had ceased thinking clearly. For the first time in a long time, I was furious, and I wasn't going to do anything to hide it.

I only told myself this: the first person to get in my way would be the last.

****

Author's Note: Holy Mary, only one more chapter left? Get excited.

****

Reviewers… have I told you lately that I love you?  
Frogger: Snoddy'll come to join you in your Jacuzzi, I'm sure.  
**Falconess: **My Ireland! Don't worry, last chapter!Swifty should be satisfying. And I definitely have told you what a Rake is, fiend! Look in the earlier chapter shoutouts. Pbbt.  
**ershey: **Haha, Snoddy: "Not me. Not now. Just say no." Swifty is deliciously scary, I'd say.  
**Gothy: **We'll see, eh? -cackles-  
**Mis: **YAY! Thanks for wandering back, lover! Thaanks for all the catching up!reviews, I must say I enjoyed them in all their incoherentness. Yes. We're almost done. Enjoy.  
**Flarish Roane: **That's exactly the way I feel! Jack IS an ass, man, it's not just a theory. And Skittery is so much fun to write in this. I think he's slightly crazy.


	12. Finale

****

Author's Note: Oh man, oh man, oh MAN. It's done. I can't believe it. This makes me so happy, to finally _finish _something. I hope it makes you happy, too. Everybody wins! A big, big thank you to everyone who read this and an even bigger thanks to anyone who took a few minutes out of their day to drop me a review… especially Falco, Midnight Flare, ershey, Misprint, Frog, Flare-the-Llama, Trolley, and Gothic Author, who were kind enough to review most/all of these insane chapters… Much love! (And love to my wife, who may not have reviewed much but did share that all-important evil!Swifty love. Muah.) But enough of my mood-ruining rambling. Please, finish the story. And tell me what you thought. Thanks.  
-Keza

****

Keeping it Safe  
_Chapter Twelve: Finale_

The thunder came before the rain, warning me of what was the come. I ignored it as best I could and didn't let it slow my steps as I roamed through the section of town I thought Swifty to be in. I had been walking for what felt like hours, and it was possible that I had been out for hours. The sky only continued to get darker, and most people who were much smarter than I had long since retired indoors to wait out the coming storm.

Still, I walked doggedly down street after street looking for any sign that was Swifty was around. I was determined to carry this out no matter who it hurt and no matter how much rain fell. I thought that if I could do this I would be free, free from the stress and worries that had been plaguing me for so long. With Swifty gone, it would be _over_, I told myself. The thought was incredibly comforting.

Then one thought stopped me short. What if Swifty had already left town? He had gotten rid of Jack, supposedly the one thing that was keeping him here. What if he had split immediately after that and hopped a train to some far off place, laughing at me all the way?

I began walking again. No… he was still in the city. He had to be. No one else could make me this uneasy by simply being within a five mile radius.

Another crack of thunder and I glanced up at the sky; enormous, dark gray clouds covered it and far off I could see occasional flashes of brightness -- lightning. This was going to be a storm to remember.

As I looked back in front of me once more something caught my eye, a flash of some sort, and now that I was paying attention I heard grunts and the tell tale smack of flesh on flesh. Though it was a scene I normally wouldn't bother to disturb, this time I stopped and eyed the alleyway the commotion was coming from. There was a chance - a very slight one, but still a chance - that Jack and Swifty occupied that space.

I walked casually towards the opening and stuck my head around one of the walls hoping that the evening's fast gathering shadows would hide me well. I had been out searching for a long, long time, and the jagged piece of wood I had taken was nearly frozen in my grip.

What I saw surprised me so much that I almost gave myself away. Swifty was there, yes, somehow I had found him. But Jack was nowhere to be seen. Taking his place were three large, apelike figures, and they were talking to Swifty… and by talking, I mean that one of them held Swifty's slumped form up, his hands trapped behind his back, while the other two remained content at taking whatever life he had left in him.

He was cut and bruised, banged up and bleeding like I had never seen any kid before, and not even **imagined** him to ever be.

_He's not invincible_, the thought swept through my mind a second time and left me feeling uncomfortable, more so than I already was.

The thugs in the alley were saying something to Swifty which I couldn't make out, but one of them couldn't stop laughing. I heard no reply from Swifty, just silence followed by a muffled crash - a body hitting the ground - and then I heard footsteps. I crossed the street and pretended to be very interested in the writing on a shop's window. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them head in the direction that I'd originally come from.

I waited a few minutes to be safe and then crossed back over and stepped into the dingy alley. I'd been emotionless this whole time, but now that I was facing Swifty I didn't know what I would feel…

He was conscious and he saw me, but there was no doubt in either of out minds that he was dying. I made no move to help him sit up and he made no move to try. He was thoroughly beat, exhausted. Yet still he was the first to speak.

"Sorry you didn't get to do the honors yourself," he croaked, noticing my table leg, and coughed weakly. I saw blood appear around his mouth that wasn't from a split lip or broken tooth.

And suddenly the pieces connected.

"Debtors," I said, then snorted. "Yeah, you were **fine** with the money." My coolness surprised myself, and I think it surprised him a little, too. Or that's what I'd like to think.

He didn't answer for awhile and I was beginning to think that he couldn't -- or that he had died on me.

He started to chuckle, then. It was a horrible sound, really, all wheezy and raspy, but you could easily tell what he was trying to do. He was laughing at me. His eyes were glazed over, his fingers and hands shaking, and he was swallowing rapidly in an attempt to catch his breath, but… there he was. Dying in an alleyway in an incredibly painful way, and he was the one laughing. It made me angry as he knew it would. He almost seemed to looked pleased when the anger contorted my features.

"A life for a life," I said through gritted teeth. "How'd you take his, Swifty? How'd Jack die?"

"I never touched your beloved Jacky," he said with another cough. "I tried, I tore the goddamn place down looking for him. But the coward split before I could get to him. He left, Snoddy boy. He ran away." He started laughing again. He was a mess.

I stared, shocked. So that was it. All the anger that had been gathering (much like the storm overhead) in me for who knows how long… was it truly only the past few days, or had it been ever since this whole struggle for power had begun… the anger began to drain, leaving my mind and my face and my heart empty. I felt nothing… nothing but disgust, now, as I looked down at the pitiful creature twisted at my feet. Had I really ever been afraid of this boy?

But Swifty had been watching me as carefully as he could as I battled with myself, and his smirk revealed a gruesome sight of broken teeth and bloody gums. I caught sight of the smirk and it reminded me all over again why and how I had been afraid. He was evil. Truly evil.

"I didn't think you could die," I told him and his smile grew wider. He had cut his tongue on the jagged edges of his teeth and every once in awhile he would cough up more blood, an effort which clearly pained him but kept him from choking.

"Everyone dies, Snoddy," he rasped. "And that's the real world. Not your… your fairytale life. People die, Snoddy." He closed his eyes briefly and coughed, sending his body into a spasm. His head cracked back against the pavement and when his eyes fluttered open once more it was noticeably harder for him to focus them on me. "You'll die," he said at last, simply, weakly.

"Not today," I told him quietly. I didn't know if he had heard me or not. He sighed and mouthed something, maybe he was trying to speak. His gaze left me and turned to the sky, where the clouds just kept getting more foreboding, darker and heavier.

"It's coming," he whispered. He turned back to me and grinned again, enjoying the look of ill-concealed horror on my face. His eyes couldn't stay on me anymore, they were roaming everywhere and I doubt he had control over them. "It's coming," he repeated, and started to laugh. My shivers had nothing to do with the cold.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring at his bleeding, shuddering form, but it just kept getting darker and darker out. I felt listless, as dead inside as Swifty was outside, but I couldn't get myself to move. What remained to do now? Swifty would be dead, there was nothing I could really do now to stop of shorten the process.

When his laughter turned hysterical I finally managed to leave, dropping my makeshift "club" behind me. My fingers ached at the release and my ears rang from the atrocious sound that followed me out.

I heard Swifty's laughter all the way home. It contrasted perfectly with the silent tears running down my face, tears that confused me as much as they wore me out. And they in turn were hidden by the sudden downpour of rain opened the sky up as soon as I left the alleyway. It was a long walk back.

-

The door to the Lodging House was unlocked, presumably for me, as it was too late and the rain too heavy for anyone else to be out. I locked it behind me and shook out my hair.

I glanced at the logbook, and for the first time everyone had signed in. I smiled despite myself. Must be Race's doing.

My steps up the creaky, rotten stairs to the bunkroom were loud and quieted the room before I even arrived at the top. They were waiting for me?

I opened the door and a sea of eyes focused on my face. It was too much, and I would've gone back down is Race hadn't slid behind me and pushed me fully into the room.

"What is this?" I muttered, exhaustion catching up to me. Someone offered me their chair and I collapsed into it gratefully.

"Think about it," Race said and took a seat across from me. Remarkably, the rest of the Lodging House was perfectly silent, all straining forward to hear our words. I offered up a weak, bitter smile.

"You're saying that I **can** think, now?"

Race studied my face carefully. "We'll talk about what happened tonight later," he said, and he sounded concerned. Concerned for my sanity? I certainly was. "There are more pressing things to deal with right now…" He motioned around the small room. "Like this."

"Yeah?" I said. God, I was tired. And I couldn't stop thinking about Swifty. Was he dead yet? I shivered.

"Do you have any dry clothes?" Race's abrupt change of subject took me by surprise.

"Uhm… no," I said and shook my head.

His thoughts took another turn and he returned to his original topic. He was anxious.

"Pie's gone, Snoddy."

I frowned, confused, and opened my mouth to comment but he kept going.

"So is Bumlets. Snitch disappeared, so did Mush, and Jack. And… Swifty's gone." He looked for confirmations. I nodded slowly.

"Seniority, Snoddy," he said softly. "You're the oldest one left, and no one wants to fight anymore." There was no one left to fight, but he didn't say this. I could see it in his eyes. They were hurt. "The Lodging House is yours."

My audience of small newsboys murmured excitedly amongst themselves and I could feel their eyes looking me up and down. Most of them didn't know me, I had never made the effort. Too much had been on my mind recently. How was I supposed to run a Lodging House full of nameless boys? I felt no emotion or reaction at Race's announcement. I just felt tired.

"What about Skittery?" I asked, almost as a last hope. But I hadn't seen him yet that night.

Answering my thoughts, Skittery's head popped up from his top bunk across the room.

"Too late, Snoddy kid!" He crowed. "I got meself a JOB!" He fell back to his bunk, giggling.

"Some guy offered him work in advertising as he heard Skitts "improve" the day's headline," Race explained with a sigh. He rolled his eyes, though he was still studying me. "He came home roaring drunk. Says he'll be gone in the morning." His expression clearly told me that Skitts would only be gone the next morning if he could get out of bed. The boy was infamous for his incredible hangovers. For the second time that night I smiled, again the contrary of my thoughts. I couldn't help it. I tried to steer myself back on track.

"The Lodging House is mine," I said, looking hard at Race.

"Yes, that's what I said."

I thought about this for a few minutes as the room's former silence began to dissolve and the boys started talking. I looked carefully at Race when he was talking to someone else and my smile returned. Suddenly I felt much, much better. And not just about my situation, either. About everything. It was like the world had finally regained its balance for me. For the first time in months, I knew what I could do. And I knew just how to do it.

"My first order of business as head of the Lodging House," I said, my voice heard clearly throughout the room, "is to call a house meeting." There was silence. Everyone was already in the room. I cleared my throat. "Uhm, everyone just come closer."

-

It certainly did make me feel powerful. I sat in my chair in front of dozens of newsboys, all sprawled on the floor. Every bunk had been emptied save Skittery's. He had fallen into a deep sleep and there was nothing we could do to wake him up. No one bothered.

I made Race sit next to me and we were both quiet for a few moments, looking at the young faces that watched us eagerly. The faces of the future, I thought, and tried not to snicker. Race looked over at me expectantly.

"Well?" He said. "Get it over with." He grinned, but there was something behind the grin, something hurt. I hoped I could fix that.

"The truth is," I began loudly, and I addressed Race, not the boys sitting in front of me. "I never wanted this. I never, ever did. And you know what? I still don't."

He was confused.

"I couldn't do this," I continued. "I don't care enough about. In fact, I don't care about it at all." My voice dropped. "You do though, don't you?"

Race just stared at me, mouth slightly open. He nodded, dumbfounded. But was it really that much of a surprise?

"Sorry, boys," now I was talking to the small faces below me. "Sorry I can't stick around, but there are things I have to do." I grinned. "I don't know what they are yet, but I'm sure that will all work out." I heard a clack beside me and guessed that Race had finally closed his mouth. "See this punk up here? You'll have to count on him, now. I know I do."

And after all that, all Race could say was, "You're leaving."

"Yeah," I said. The smile hadn't left my face. "Yeah, I am." I looked out the window.

"Not tonight…"

"Tonight."

"It's raining."

"Nah… look. It stopped." Race followed my gaze. The night was clear as could be. I stood up, set in my decision. "Wish Skittery luck for me," I said. Race rolled his eyes again. He walked me to the door.

I had opened my mouth to say a goodbye when he turned.

"Bed!" He cried with a grin, and the boys scrambled up from the floor and rushed giggling to their bunks. "Let's go! It's late!"

He turned back to me, eyes bright, and I gave him a hug on an impulse. I think he was as surprised as I at the gesture.

"Take care," he said, and that was all he needed to say. I just nodded, and started down the steps.

-

I began walking with nothing more than the wet clothes stuck to my back. I was leaving it all behind… and it felt so damn good.

__

Fin


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